Why I hate Call of Duty: World at War

If you move in video game circles (or love someone who does) chances are you have heard of the Call of Duty games.  My husband is a HUGE fan and the release of the newest installment was driving him mad with anticipation.  He had pre-ordered the game and just happened to have to work when it came out.  Being the lovely wife that I am, I offered to pick it up.  I packed the young-uns into the car and headed off to Game Stop.  Why didn’t I think of the inevitable HUGE-MUNGUS line that was waiting for me there?  Why didn’t I think about my son, who tends to throw giant cranky crying fits when forced to be held for long periods of time?  I don’t know why these things didn’t cross my mind, but as you can imagine, the combination was not good.  Game Stop is a tiny little store and it was packed to the brim with anxious guys within a matter of minutes.  My son?  He was an anxious guy too… he was anxious to get the hell out of Dodge, and didn’t mind letting the entire store know with his ear-piercing wails.  These wails, if recorded, would make an effective weapon against all sorts of unsavory characters.  Unfortuantly they also have the power to piss people off in an excedingly short amount of time.  Amid annoyed whispers from the throngs of gamers, I stood my ground.  After about 20 minutes, we finally (quickly) picked up the game and headed straight to McDonalds.  My children, stuffed with chicken nuggets, drifted off to sleep that night, dreaming of a world with no lines.  And me?  Well, besides informing my husband that he owes me BIG TIME (and believe me, I’m coming up with a list of demands)… I stayed up way too late playing the new video game with him.  I’ve never really gotten into video games, but doggonit if we didn’t have a blast together crushing the enemy horde.  I got to take out some of my frustration with some well aimed bazookas and spend some much needed time with my guy… hmmm… maybe I need a title re-write?