A card playing evening

I love to play games – card games, board games, word games. Ever since the time I played Candyland (a hideous game most parents are subjected to) with my mother, I have loved games.  She was a trouper and played with me often.  Payback time was when I had to play it with my little brother. Ugh!  I was so glad when he graduated to Pollyanna – a game which probably no longer exists, except in my closet.  It was similar to Parcheesi. This game was much more intellectual.  Not only was it about Pollyanna, whom I loved, but it required a little thought.  Frankie’s Candyland winning streak was over.  Then I started playing card games with my father, and my winning streak was over.  I usually won when I played Casino with my Grandmother or her sisters, and it never once occurred to me that they might actually have won if they hadn’t all doted on me so.  I just figured that I was brilliant at Casino.  More recently, I played with Rachael and she always won.  And not because I dote on her so, although I do dote on her.  Two games I never, never, ever win are Scrabble and Monopoly (aka Monotony).  I did win at Scrabble once and still have the scorecard.  My cousin, who usually wins, even rudely checked to be sure that his addition had been correct. 

So I was happy to spend some time with The Twins playing Quiddler.  When I play games with them, I am happy as a clam, but I feel like my brother Frank must have felt when playing Pollyanna with me.  Destined to lose. He once threw the board at my head.  I have never felt quite like that when playing with The Twins, but I do feel at the outset that I am not going to win, no matter what we are playing.  They are brilliant game sharks!  And one or the other of them always wins. Not just Quiddler, but every game we ever play.  Until a few evenings ago when I actually won a game!  This is a game at which I always win when playing with The Aunties, but never when playing with The Twins.  However, hope springs eternal!  Not only did I win, but I won spectacularly!  And not because they dote on me either.  They may do that, but it doesn’t get in the way of their intense urge to conquer in games.

So a delightful evening, complete with delicious pasta, a lovely passeggiata, and games, one of which I finally won.  Do I gloat? No.  One cannot really gloat about winning one game out of more than a hundred, but one can feel a tiny bit smug. 

An evening stroll

This all reminds me of a time when my father and his friend beat my mother and her friend at Bridge – a rare event.  They made a Grand Slam, and then had an article about it, detailing their brilliant bidding, put in the town newspaper.  Obviously that was a town with little newsworthy going on.