... a hyperactive ballerina attempting to kill an airborne hornet with a flyswatter, my five-year-old daughter swung the Wii remote and her on-screen golf ball landed dead center of the fairway, just a short chip from the green.

I take the remote and stand in perfect form. Feet squared, head steady, swing fluid, follow-through perfect. Tiger Woods would have been impressed. Except my ball landed knee-high in weeds, out of bounds.

I suddenly realized why they put a wrist strap on the remote. I could have thrown it through the TV screen. I stomped, shook my head, and couldn’t believe that despite my best efforts, once again, I was losing Wii Sports golf to a recent preschool graduate.

My daug...

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