Houston, Wii Have a Problem.

Dustin and I own a Nintendo Wii.

Occasionally, we play it.

Almost every time we play it, Henry wants a piece of the action. Being the good parents that we are, we always give him a Wii remote to play with -- sans batteries. He sits there happily clicking the buttons and looking at the screen as if he's Mario or Luigi. (Side note: Dustin won't let me be Mario; I'm always Luigi.)

This was all fine and dandy until about two weeks ago when Henry wised up to our little con. No longer is he the ignorant child of three weeks ago. No. He now knows that his remote is good for nothing unless the little light is on at the bottom. If we give him the "broken" remote, he will stand by the laundry room door (where we keep our Wii supplies) and bang/whine for us to give him another one.

First of all, what the hell is wrong with kids these days? When I was 18 months old, I'm fairly certain I was laying around just pooping my pants. It wasn't until I was in elementary school that I learned the ways of Nintendo and how to blow on the cartridge if it didn't connect properly.

My kid is 18 months old, and I'm sure like most of you with young children, way too technologically advanced for his age. He won't play with his puzzles or other developmentally appropriate toys because he's too busy changing the television channel (and one time purchased a pay-per-view porno... I kid you not), playing songs on my iPhone, or demanding to have a real remote for the Wii.

I'll leave you with this: