Computer Genius

The kids are playing computer and video games for far too many hours.
So what else is new? The sun rose this morning as well.


Oh Man.
These habits always get whipped up again after Christmas and birthdays. Somebody acquires a new game--and wham! The eye-stinging marathons begin. Really, I don't know how their brains don't just fall out of their heads.

Here's my biggest problem though. Upon again entering a room bursting with male zombie'd game players in full blown fixation, I notice this one, bigger, older guy sitting in the middle of them all and playing as passionately as anyone.

Yup.
Oh, no.
It's Hubby.

He has joined the enemy.


Worse yet, when I was looking the other way those sneaky teens got him his own account and character in the gangs latest poison, --World of Warcraft. ~(to a woman's mind they might as well call it 'I Love to Fight and Hurt Others Boy What A Good Time'). (Listen, I'm glad men have the guts to put up arms when we, the softer-gender need protection. But really? World of Warcraft?!)

And, (I almost cry as I tell you this) the character my StudMuffin chooses to be, in some sort of disastrous twist of sick, is a kind of busty looking cavewoman girl, with super attack prowess's. Even Hubby's sons were a little grossed out by this. But at the risk of being grossed out by their dad, or accepting him fully into the fold so as to gain extended playing rights--they choose acceptance.

Double worse yet, --say Hubby's real name is 'Bert' . . well his W.O.W. name is 'Bertina'.
Way bad for my (humble, mild, saintly) sex-drive.

If I hear one more reference or call-out to 'Bertina!' -- 'Come quick!' --I think I might puke.
How am I supposed to have romantic feelings for a man I hear shout back to that 'Yup, I'm right behind you!'


My only hope now is to get Hubby pit-bull-jaw locked onto some other distraction before he 'levels' (or in other words makes an even more indispensable Bertina).

No little fancy pants fur-girdled 'Bertina', or way-leveled teenager son is going to get between me and my Hubby's rational thinking.

Let me assure World of Warcraft, ---Momma don't play small.

In a succession of three notes, lowered on string, attached to a pole, --from a distant vantage point so as to not raise any suspicions, I slowly lower directly into Hubby's line-of-sight note #1.

'Bertina, by the way, Is Now On 'Her' Third Hour of Screen Time!'
then
'Wife'amoma Is About To Kill 'Bertina' '
and finally
'I Think I saw Your New Wrench Laying in the Front Yard Grass.'

(Clearly vague language chosen for the first two notes, was too cryptic. But number three, that was speakin' Bertina's language.)

To the boys surprise the masterful Bertina is suddenly sent directly to 'sleep mode,' as Hubby stretches his arms and announces --

'Okay guys, lets get outside for a bit. Do some yard work or something.'

You'da thought he'd asked them to line up for a masculine group bubble bath followed by mall hopping, --the whining and thrashing was so loud and high pitched. Even the dog pawed at her ears and joined in the howling.


Fifteen minutes later sunk into a big easy chair, sipping tea, and looking out the front window while watching the family scour the yard for trinkets, I smile easily to myself.
Genius, thy name is woman.
And woman, thou art genius.