Webkinz Mayhem

Greetings my loverly readers!


Yesterday I woke up feeling something I haven't felt in years. It was slightly reminicent of years gone by after spending the night in a lovely drinking establishment...okay, who are we kidding...THE BAR. That feeling of blurry eyes, headache, achy body parts, and pure exhaustion. No, I didn't go on a bender...

...my daughter got a Webkinz.

Now for those who are not in the know, Webkinz are sweet little stuffed animals that, when purchased, come with a website secret access code. Once this code has been entered into the "Adoption Centre" at the official Webkinz site, a whole new realm of childhood joy fills the home. While on the site, your animal has it's own house which you can decorate with the latest in home electronics, furnishings for the boudoir, kitchen accessories, gardening furniture and supplies, food, clothing, and toys, books and games for your newest addition to the family...the list is endless. Now, me being the ever-doting mommy, I really only want the best for my baby girl.

Yes, I spoil her...sue me!

In order to "purchase" these items for your Webkinz internet home, one must play games, answer quizzes, etc on the site in order to earn KinzCash. Well, seeing as I love my baby girl, and given the fact that I am addicted to a certain internet game where one must incessantly pop coloured groups of balls or ballons, this mommy was intent on getting baby girl some mega KinzCash!

They have a certain game on the site called "Cash Cow 2". Here, the unsuspecting player must pop groups of coloured bottles located in a cyber-milk machine. As you pop groups of colours, you obtain points and the "milk-meter" climbs ever faithfully to the top of the meter. To advance to the next level, one must fill this meter with milk before becoming one of the priveleged few who will one day reach a level on legendary status. I wanted to be that legend!

So I hit the "play" button which then launched (no...sucked) me into this whole new realm of children's online games of which I would one day be queen whom all would regale and write epic poems about.

The first few of levels were, of course, seemingly simple. Pop pop pop...the milk-meter filled including bonus points for clearing the screen. As I blew on my fingers and polished my nails against my shirt, I smiled, recognizing the sheer genius which was me.

I eventually hit ... LEVEL 5.

Here I met my adversary...the introduction of new colours and blockers that would be the bane of my existance. As I strategically clicked away the coloured sections all of a sudden the remaining bottles in the milk machine shatter into gazzilons of pieces and then informed me that, "oops, you didn't reach the required level".

Well, no probelm, I thought to myself. I'll just play again. I must not have been paying attention.

Click click click, pop pop pop. EXPLOSION..."oops, you didn't reach the required level". A blood-curdling scream escaped from my throat, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo!"

Well, this is just stupid, I thought to myself. It's a kid's game for heaven's sake. So, with cheering crowds, minstrels and poets writing that epic poem still in the forefront of my mind, I forged on determined that I would get past Level 5.

I quickly glanced at the day's high score which was held by an adorable piglet named Petunia. Her high score for the day was something like 25,352,619. Piece of cake.

"You're goin' down, pig!" I snarled at the screen. Click click pop pop click pop click ... shatter! I quickly glanced at my score: 1, 028 WHAT????? "You have got to be joking," I screamed at the screen. I glanced at my watch. It was 1:32 a.m. "This is crazy...it's just a game. You need to get to bed," I told myself.

But by this point my competitive side had kicked in and told my wimpy side to,"go to bed then, you big sucky baby. I'm stayin'." Now the goal was no longer to get my daughter high points to buy that sweet hippo topiary tree for her garden. This was about winning and frying up that pig and eating bacon for breakfast! There was no turning back and certainly sleep was for wimps and losers. I was a winner ... no matter what the cost.

After almost two hours of competitive play, I admitted defeat. Petunia the pig was most definitely the queen for that night. But I will return and I will see my daughter's monkey, Webby, in that picture slot. And there will be those who will try to defeat my high score, and I will smile and wave to them as I sit and enjoy my plate of bacon.

You're goin' down, pig...