August 19, 2013
The Day the Wii Died
Sometimes, some things just don't matter.
Two girls packed and ready, awaited Grandma's arrival. She drove down the street, and less than ten minutes later, her van full of bikes, fishing rods, luggage, and two excited girls, she drove right back out the way she had come.
The oldest son and I sat down to play Monopoly Deal when the doorbell rang. His friend from when they were two greeted us when we opened the door. Again, another child left. Another overnight visit was about to begin.
Just my youngest and I sat at the dining room table as he snacked and I sipped water.
"You know why I don't like fires?" he questions me with a high pitched voice.
His answer makes it hard for me to stifle a giggle. "When the sparks go over my head, and I don't duck, then woop! a fire starts on my head."
"How many times has your head caught fire?"
"Zip!" He forms a zero between his forefinger and thumb.
"That's what I thought."
After shoveling a few handfuls of crackers shaped like bunnies into his mouth, he asks, "Can we buy a bunny rabbit?"
We finished eating and head out to spend several hours at the arcade and mini-golf course.
Later, when my Drummer husband returned home from work, he brought home cheesecake for dessert.
That was the day the Wii died.
Posted in: Family