Four-year-old proves just a Wii bit better than Grandpa

By D.L. Stewart, Contributing Writer 5:25 PM Thursday, July 2, 2009

ARLINGTON, Va. — My youngest granddaughter, I’d have to objectively admit, is the cutest little girl who ever lived (although not necessarily cuter than my other granddaughters). But she definitely is cuter than a button, with a smile that would make Julia Roberts jealous.

At the age of 4, she is perfect except for one thing: She has a wicked mean streak.

I discovered this trait during my visit with the portion of my family that lives here. Before I can unpack the presents I have brought all the way from the airport gift shop, she looks up at me with a smile that would turn Carmen Diaz teal with envy and asks, “Grandpa, will you play a game with me?”

“Of course,” I reply. “What do you want to play?”

“Matching” she says.

I’ve never heard of Matching and have no idea how it’s played. But how hard could it be to figure out a game that can be understood by a 4-year-old? So I follow her into the family room, where she turns on the television, powers up the Wii console and clicks 50 or 60 icons until a game called Mii Matching appears on the screen.

“OK,” she says, handing me a control, “let’s play.”

We stand in front of the screen clicking buttons on our controls. Halfway through the game she is clinging to a 72-0 lead. Partly this is because I haven’t figured out the object of the game, but mostly it’s because I have been clicking the wrong button. Once I figure that out, I quickly amass 20 points. Unfortunately, she has amassed an additional 50. So I decide to click faster, even though I still have no idea where, when or why I am supposed to be clicking. By means of this strategy, I no longer have 20 points when the game ends. I have three. She winds up with 182.

“That was fun,” she declares, with that smile that would make Mary Tyler Moore sue her plastic surgeon. “Let’s play again.

The second game is not nearly as hotly-contested as the first. I beg out of a third game.

“Do you want to play something else?” she asks.

“How about one that Grandpa would understand?” I suggest. “Do you have a tennis game on that thing?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I can beat you at tennis, too.”

“Bring it on, kid. I was playing real tennis before John McEnroe was big enough to throw a racquet.”

I lose the first two Wii tennis games at love and by the third, there is a pretty good chance Grandpa really is going to get a hernia.

Before she can talk me into playing Wii golf, her mother says it’s time for dinner. As we head for the table, my granddaughter has another big smile on her face.

It looks a lot like Dick Cheney’s.

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