Game night

The people who know me well (i.e. my husband and the few family members who have had, most likely regretfully, the opportunity to experience my less-than-enthusiastic participation) know that I am not a Monopoly gal. Monopoly frustrates me. It makes me grumpy. I get moody when I play Monopoly. I always lose, and I’m a crabby Monopoly loser.

Perhaps it’s because I’m a bit competitive, and it’s not fun to not win. Personally, I think it’s just the game, though. And you really should start out with more than $1500 because by the time you buy some property, pay your taxes, and pay for stinkin' road maintenance, you do not have enough money to pay for rent when staying at another player’s hotel. Mind you, this does not even have to be the Boardwalk luxury resort.

Blessing #s 1&2 have been begging for days to play Monopoly. They found the game down in the cabinet (brought into the marriage by my sweet husband who loves to play Monopoly and loves to play it competitively). Beloved Husband was all grins at their requests. “Ohhh… that’s Moma’s faaa-vor-ite game! Isn't it, Moma?”

So, yes, last night, we popped in a Barney video for the younger ones, and the four of us sat down to a game of Monopoly. I was admittedly a bit excited to play. Probably mostly because I would be playing against a 6- and a 7-year old. They have never played Monopoly, and they aren’t ruthless real-estate mongers yet. And they don’t know how to push my buttons like their daddy does! I started out with a smile.

And then we got mid-way through the game, and I was forking over the rent at Mediterranean Avenue’s hotel. It left me with a measly three dollars. Three dollars! And it was at Mediterranean, people. That’s space number one on the board... the cheapest property out there! At that point, I was about to go through my pouty quitting routine, but since the girls were having so much fun laughing at me slowly going bankrupt while I hesitantly handed them my money, I kept playing.

I’d save the pouty quitting for when I landed on BH’s houses lining Park Place and Boardwalk. I didn’t quit, but I did pout just a little.

And then my luck changed. Somehow my little thimble kept landing right in the middle of (but not on!) developed properties. But that ship, car, and wheelbarrow landed on mine. I collected little bits here and there. 6 dollars. 12 dollars. 22 dollars. I made some trades. Fair trades, mind you. I did not cheat my little girls!

BH spent a small fortune heavily developing the aforementioned pricey properties of Park Place and Boardwalk… and then he rolled the dice and landed on my Illinois Avenue with its three houses. Oh so sad... he did not have enough money for rent. I told him I’d take his $27 dollars, get-out-of-jail-free card, and a free night’s stay at one of his luxury resorts. He took the deal.

So when I landed on the three houses of Boardwalk, I was saved. And my grin just got bigger, even after allowing some cheats for the girls: “Oh, pick another card. Oh, pick another card. Ah-ha! See what this one says…” or subtly moving pieces one too many spaces to a safe square.

Then the game was over.

B#1 fussed about wanting one more roll so she could pass Go and get her $200.

B#2 needed some comforting because she was bankrupt and having a lot of bad-luck rolls. (I had already noticed the similarities, but BH was quick to point out that she responded to Monopoly just like her Moma. She got a little moody when she started losing, and she was fussy when the game was over and she had lost.)

But no fussing from yours truly. I just tried to hide my beaming glow of excitement. Okay, maybe not totally. I was proud of myself. I beat my husband and two little girls! I rocked! I loaded up on property; I loaded up on cash. And by the end of the night, I was declared the winner!

Well, goodness gracious. I think I might have a new favorite board game.

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