Some of us take board games a little too seriously.
Last Letter card game by ThinkFun
We† enjoyed “family game night” on a recent Saturday, during which my older son was inspired to exclaim:
“Call the Mom(b) Squad; she’s going to explode!”
I’d like to take this opportunity to reassure everyone that this was not a case where I was worked up about losing. I was quite shocked to discover that I went from great to terrible at the game once we limited players over 12 to specific parts of speech. It is true, however, that I have been known to list imaginary players and ascribe higher point levels to them over my family members in those rare instances when I wasn’t going to win…
I was freaking out about reacting sensibly to the possibility of pieces being lost and/or put away outside of their assigned spots. This little blow up was motivated by OCD more than ego. You can’t be faulted for guessing the latter as it is always a fair possibility as far as my motivations go.
A fine time was had by all. My teen’s favorite part of the evening was, of course, his own clever comment. Now you get to enjoy it, too.
♦
†DS1 played only under duress because he’s a teenager now and it isn’t cool to spend time with your family. DS2 begs for a family game night every weekend; the little one also angles to play a really long, involved European type table game every time, or invents games of his own.
Really Wonderful Things 
We used to have an aunt (now dearly departed), who loved to play Monopoly–at which she always won–but it was really more of a game of attrition. It would last for days, and every night she’d insist on packing it up and making notes on who owned what, and how much money everybody had, so that we could resume the next night. I’m sure most of us would be secretly wishing to land on a square that would finish us, just so that we could clear off and relax.
Oh, heavens. Was anyone checking up on this no doubt very honorable lady? Because, at least at MY childhood home, it would’ve been an artful (or not) screen for some kind of cheating.
*cough* Dad! *cough*
The apple doesn’t fall far… I don’t cheat, but I will obfuscate until it’s almost the same thing!
She might, but if she did, nobody ever spotted how. We were all too busy trying to lose as quickly as possible, she never really had any reason to cheat. Maybe that was her strategy?
I’m sure Machiavelli would approve. Here’s to auntie, winning her war of attrition.
May I live long enough to be remembered fondly by another generation of kids who don’t understand why I’m such a poor loser! 😉
I’ll drink to that!