Growing up we routinely had game night/day. Card games like crazy eights, dice games like yahtzee, and every board game you can even imagine. Checkers, Parcheesi, Monopoly, Clue, backgammon, and Life.
Ah, The Game of Life.
I remember a snow storm, sometime in the late eighties or early nineties. It was a doozie and the schools were closed for at least a few days. Digging out was slow going, and my family passed the time playing games. At first we were having a blast. Hot cocoa with marshmallows and a rousing round of scrabble. But by day four, everyone was getting a little tense. My mother pulled out the big box which contained The Game of Life and we all gathered around the table.
From the get go, I was screwed. I got the lowest salary and seemed to land on every space that required me to give away my money. Finally, I made it to the end and I decided to risk it all. I decided to spin to become the millionaire tycoon. I picked 7.
The dial landed on 6.
In a barely audible whisper I said. 'damn.' I wasn't even ten years old yet, and somehow this curse word slipped from my lips as if I were a salty septuagenarian sailor. My brother's eyes grew as wide as saucers. I looked down, knowing I was done for. But much to my surprise, my parents erupted with laughter. Shocked, and a little angry, I repeated myself in full voice. And still, they laughed. Eventually I stormed off to my room, and after a few hours we were all back to normal.
Thankfully the weather warmed up the next day, otherwise who knows what profanities would have slipped over my nine-year old lips.
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1 comment:
I wanted that game for my Year 10 maths class. I wonder if you can still get it?
My mum washed my mouth out with soap for calling my sister a pig. Talk about over reactions.
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