Tom, my dishy husband, returned home last weekend with a PS3. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Tom was surprised I was surprised. After all, he had "mentioned" he was "going to Best Buy to pick up a PS3." Yes, except my boy had maintained a solid five-year-every-Saturday streak of "smack-talking" that he was "going to Best Buy to pick up a [video game of some sort]."
His threats had always been empty. I was suckered in by statistics. I tell you.
Tom demonstrated advanced skill getting the PS3 out of the box and installed. He may have captured the high score for set up. His speed with multi-colored wires and male-female connectors shocked and amazed. Unfortunately, he got cocky. This became apparent, Game One, when he lobbed a granade onto himself. Tom's character (ChrisPike) also has been doing a lot of flailing around on the ground. He drops and rolls whenever threatened by the weird-looking evil creatures.
On Friday, Tom took the day off work. He had some "things to do around the house." When I called home around 3 pm, I was not particularly astonished by the gunfire punctuating our conversation.
We'll see how much a solid day of warfare has improved ChrisPike's performance. More on this later.