Just a Wii bit

Santa was good to us this year, hauling one of those big red bags down our tight squeeze of a chimney to deliver us one of those gadgets that guarantees to keep our kids inside for extended hours, ignoring their chores and homework, requesting their meals on a tv tray, and pretending that I don't exist. You got it, we got a Wii.

And I really love Santa and all, but when I think of video games, all I can see is Toby (Zackary Levi) from Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel. Only in my nightmare, it's a tall, lanky blond that mixes stripes and plaids (and somehow pulls it off) and has the brains to be President (oh wait, do you need brains to be president?), okay, to be a neurosurgeon, but instead of holding a scalpel, she holds this black , or turquoise, or pink, remote control, and instead of saving lives, she is pretending to destroy them.

Now let's back up, because I'm the one that told Santa we needed a Wii. Mommy needed something to occupy at least two out of four children simultaneously so that some food might make it to the table, and a diaper or two might get changed before the rash sets in. But it turns out, to my pleasant surprise, that (so far) our girls are not glued to the Wii, and when they do play, they beg us parental units to play with them.

Maybe this Wii thing is kinda cool after all.

So I'm feeling pretty good that my girls are not going to turn into potato chip eating couch slobs whose strongest muscle in their bodies is their fingers. Instead, I'm realizing that the Wii might have some really great parent-kid bonding potential.

Until I dive in, and discover the real problem with Wii. It's not a concern of my kids losing brain cells, or not getting in the NFL's suggested hour per day of physical fitness, or eating from Michelle Obama's health plan, or even whether or not my child will be a victim of The Last Child in the Woods. My real concern with the Wii? Doctor bills.

Now I've been an athlete all of my life, three sports in high school, college basketball, supplemented with all sorts of recreational activities. And I've had an injury here and there, usually due to physical contact with another player, or some weird act of nature, and of course I've sprained my ankle fifteen million times. But I expect that from being active in that way.

But injured on the Wii? You could have never convinced me.

One game of Wii tennis--one game--and I crawl out of bed this morning gripping at my shoulder, a twinge of pain shooting out to my shoulder blade. I can't turn my neck so good and I feel some kind of strange referral junk down in my lower back. The base of my neck tingles when I hold my arm in certain positions, and when I hold my cup of coffee (and this is the one that is really brutal, not due to the pain, but because it inhibits my caffeine potential), I actually have to support it with my other hand. Seriously. This is no joke.

Now I know that I'm getting up there in the age department, but come on. My neck feels the same way it did in the last car accident I had when I got whipflash. Is there a disclaimer on Santa's little toy of joy?

I should have known. When my six year old daughter was complaining of pain in her neck and the back of her knee after a four hour session of Just Dance on Christmas Day. I should have just packed that sucker back up and signaled for a reindeer to come on back and retrieve it. Save us a few chiropractic bills.

But then I think hard about that tennis game, and my six year old smiling at me every time she won a shot. Her huge smile and high five when she'd ace me. Her funny laugh and sweet little voice saying "Mommy!" when I actually did win a game. Her big hug afterwards saying, "Thanks for playing with me, Mommy." Her excitement as she jumps up and down and wants to do it again over and over and over. With me. Bonding. And I realize that my Wii bit of an injury is worth it.