I've Started Playing Animal Crossing

It was only a matter of time. Sigh.

Knock Knock Me Out

Jokes backfire. My philosophy until now has always been, "anything's worth a laugh." I have made this startlingly evident on many occasions to the embarrassment of those who associate with me.

Examples? Well, my senior quote in the yearbook reads, "Hyacinths for the soul" (an attempt at jest since my grandma forced my mother to submit the same dandy line as her senior quote). Now all my high school peers think of me as sensitive and introspective -two of the worst qualities to be known for in high school.

Another time I signaled "LOSER" to a friend

who I'd sped past on the road only to receive a harsher gesture in return from the 70-year-old driver who I'd mistaken for my friend.

Every choice has its consequence and every joke has its risk, but I have really put myself into a pickle this time.

Eric loves the game Animal Crossing on Game Cube. I first witnessed his obsession while in Texas soon after our wedding. You see, his eight-year-old niece, whom the game was more appropriately designed for, would yell for help. Eric would grumble, trudge to her rescue, and "show" her how to play the game for a co

uple hours.

The game consists of talking animals (a sin against nature), repetitive musical tracks, ugly characters, and tedious tasks resembling indentured servitude. I swore to Eric that I would die if I ever saw the game again, so when we found a version for Wii, I thought my world was ending.

But my vocalized hatred of this game only reinforced the potential hilarity of buying the Wii version for Eric's birthday. Big mistake.

I may as well have addressed the birthday package to "Pandora".

So now I sit, lamenting my shortsightedness, listening to the garbled voices of ugly animals ordering my husband's avatar around instead of hearing my own garbled voice ordering him around.

I think it's time for some Animal Crossing Frisbee. Or, better yet, Animal Crossing road kill.