The Sorest Loser
I'm competitive. And not in a nice healthy way. It's part of the reason why I never played sports in school.*
*Also because I have little to no athletic ability.
In regular life, I'm all nice and sweet and people-pleasing. But when it comes to competition, I get intense. And heated. And possibly stabby. It's weird, and it comes out of nowhere, this burning desire for victory at all costs. Curtis and I rarely play games together because of it.*
*Also because he almost always wins and Iam a huge sore loser just can't handle the agony of defeat.
As I've mentioned before, we have a Wii, and it's always Curtis who plays it with the boys. But lately, during the day while Colin is in school, Cameron has been begging me to play the Wii with him. Which is a catch-22: it's an easy win, which I like, but I can't just consistenly beat a two-year-old, y'all. It wouldn't be right. For, you know, the development of confidence and self-esteem and other psychology-related things. Or whatever.
As we began to play, though, I was amused to see that Cameron thought he was winning at his favorite swordfighting game - even when Mama was (naturally) whooping up on his random-remote-waving little butt. "Mommy, I'm winning you!" he would gleefully exclaim, while holding the Wii controller backwards and mashing on every button.
Riiiiiight. "Good job, buddy!" Slice. Whap. More points for Mommy.
But unfortunately, I wasn't familiar with what happens when you win at this particular game: a big, overly-gloaty YOU WIN screen. Which makes it abundantly clear, even to the most otherwise-oblivious two-year-old, who the victor is:
Cameron, seeing that the game was over, let out an excited whoop and an exclamation of, "I winned!" But when he saw the "YOU WIN" screen - with me at the forefront - he said, "Awwww," and wilted like a little flower. And just wait, it only gets worse when the big letters fade away. Check out the poor pitiful loser (er, Cameron) in the background:
The poor guy was so deflated. He really thought he was winning.
He'll never appreciate what happened during the next round. He doesn't know that I'm a person who puts her competitive spirit aside for NOBODY ...
...except for a brokenhearted two-year-old waving a Wii remote in the wrong direction.
Yes, Cameron. You winned me. Good job, buddy.
*Also because I have little to no athletic ability.
In regular life, I'm all nice and sweet and people-pleasing. But when it comes to competition, I get intense. And heated. And possibly stabby. It's weird, and it comes out of nowhere, this burning desire for victory at all costs. Curtis and I rarely play games together because of it.*
*Also because he almost always wins and I
As I've mentioned before, we have a Wii, and it's always Curtis who plays it with the boys. But lately, during the day while Colin is in school, Cameron has been begging me to play the Wii with him. Which is a catch-22: it's an easy win, which I like, but I can't just consistenly beat a two-year-old, y'all. It wouldn't be right. For, you know, the development of confidence and self-esteem and other psychology-related things. Or whatever.
As we began to play, though, I was amused to see that Cameron thought he was winning at his favorite swordfighting game - even when Mama was (naturally) whooping up on his random-remote-waving little butt. "Mommy, I'm winning you!" he would gleefully exclaim, while holding the Wii controller backwards and mashing on every button.
Riiiiiight. "Good job, buddy!" Slice. Whap. More points for Mommy.
But unfortunately, I wasn't familiar with what happens when you win at this particular game: a big, overly-gloaty YOU WIN screen. Which makes it abundantly clear, even to the most otherwise-oblivious two-year-old, who the victor is:
Cameron, seeing that the game was over, let out an excited whoop and an exclamation of, "I winned!" But when he saw the "YOU WIN" screen - with me at the forefront - he said, "Awwww," and wilted like a little flower. And just wait, it only gets worse when the big letters fade away. Check out the poor pitiful loser (er, Cameron) in the background:
The poor guy was so deflated. He really thought he was winning.
He'll never appreciate what happened during the next round. He doesn't know that I'm a person who puts her competitive spirit aside for NOBODY ...
...except for a brokenhearted two-year-old waving a Wii remote in the wrong direction.
Yes, Cameron. You winned me. Good job, buddy.
Just the beginning of what you're willing to do for your kids.
ReplyDeleteThat's funny. I'm the same way. I loved playing Chess and Risk against my son but now that he is 9 he's starting to win and it sucks. That should say something about my strategy skills. I did play sports and was constantly getting penalties because I felt the need to win at all cost. Makes things very interesting when my siblings get together and play games because we are all the same way. Hope your holidays are going well!
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I can't stand playing board games with my Fiancee. He gets all up in my face over "Sorry!
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He makes me want to get stabby too.
It's insane the things I do to put aside my ego for the kiddos. ...It's sickening really.
ReplyDeleteI (((heart))) love that! Yeah MOM!!!!
ReplyDeleteAwww....good job, Mommy! I hope Cam's ego was healed with that second game.
ReplyDeleteI'm almost never competitive, which made me positively awful at sports in school. But if we're gambling on something, I'm.......fierce, to say the least! Wonder what's up with that?
Heartwarming. ^_^
ReplyDeleteI love it. You are a great mom!
ReplyDeleteI love it! I think I have found my soul-mate in you...or my arch-nemesis...doesn't matter, we have found each other, now bring on the competition!
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