Self Esteem? Wii Don't Need No Stinkin' Self Esteem!

Mom's birthday was on Friday, and in keeping with sacred family traditions, she was pretty dodgy about what she wanted. She insisted she didn't want anything (which, while it may be true, is nevertheless unacceptable), and then acquiesced to admitting that a bottle of her preferred port would suffice (which it wouldn't).

A few days before the big day, however, she saw a commercial for Wii Fit. She had no idea what it was or how it worked, but she associated physical fitness with video games and her eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning. She picked my brain on it a little and, after receiving what she felt were satisfactory answers, insisted we go pick it up the next day.

Now, me, I'm psyched by this. I've been wanting a new Wii game--and, in fairness, excuses to play my old Wii games--for a while, and what better way to accomplish this than through the ever-popular excuse, "...but it's good for you!"?

But Mom had designs on one-upping me. Because, clever woman that she is, she realized that her birthday was at the end of the week, and she could use this as an excuse to make someone else pay for her new toy!

And that someone else, naturally, ended up being me and my brother. Happy birthday, Mom.

Since, however, we spent her birthday and the day after working a garage sale--which, if you followed my Twitter or my Facebook, you would know went just fucking spectacularly--today was the first day that we could give Wii Fit a proper test run. So while she got her hair done, I dusted off the Wii, calibrated the Balance Board, got the Internet running on it again, did a system update...you know, all those things Mom would never give a shit about, but nonetheless maximized the performance of the console so that she could enjoy her gamin--um, I mean, fitness experience most optimally.

But what kind of son would I be if I gave it to her cold? Oh no, this called for a test run.

So I load the software, set the Balance Board up, and follow the on-screen instructions. Cake! It starts asking me questions like height and age, and I dutifully oblige. Then, the big moment: step onto the board! I do, and, per instructions, relax my shoulders and stand naturally. A charmingly high-pitched voice counts down, chants "Measuring!" a few times, and then brightly declares, "All done!" And with that, they give me my results.

My balance, as it turns out, is a little off: I lean to the left. A touch surprising, since I tend to favor my right side, but okay, no big deal.

Next, my BMI.

BIG DEAL.

I'm not about to divulge what the device told me on the Internet--that's why I locked my fucking profile with a password post-haste, because it's my shame and mine alone, damn it--but let's just say it wasn't pretty. And as if that wasn't demoralizing enough, the little Mii figure next to the scale blew up like a balloon as the scale went up. So now, not only do I feel like a fat bastard, but my avatar looks like one too. Thanks, Wii Fit! I didn't need my body-image issues reinforced at all today!

But hey, at least they let me set goals. However, since they'll only allow you to set a maximum weight loss goal of 20 pounds, let's just say I'll be setting quite a few goals before Hot Air Balloon Mii gets deflated at all. Bastards...