Okay, I admit it. I cheated playing Candyland with my then 3-year old son and 5-year old daughter. I committed this crime one year ago, and I’ve been called out for being a “poor sport” for the past 12 months, so here I am coming clean.
But, I ask all of you dads, “what would you have done if put in this same situation?” Read the following set of circumstances and you tell me…
It’s a rainy first Sunday in October. My wife and I “hit the town” the previous night for a fun-filled October fest with a few friends. Now, I’ve learned my lesson to stop at 2 bottles of wine. I’m joking. Relax. I’ve learned my lesson to stop at 2 “glasses” of wine. So, Charlie Jack Hammer is not drilling his way into my cerebellum, but hey, we got home late, and Cooper decided that his normal 5:30 am wake up call was in play for the 73rd consecutive Sunday. This kid just doesn’t like to sleep on the weekend. It’s the first Sunday in October, so we have the last day of the baseball season (see Tigers-Twins excitement for those of you that recall). We have NFL Football of course. Normally, I’m a casual fan. After the 9th straight game of Candyland, I’m John Madden on Cotton Candy. Boom!
So, here we are sitting at the kitchen table at 2:30pm. I’ve been awake now for 9 hours. My only break was the 60 minutes asking God why he has forsaken me in this, my hour of need. I’m trying to be a good Dad and keep the TV off and do some Smith Team Building excercises like the dishes, reading books, cleaning out kid’s closets, and now playing board games: first 4 games of Memory and now we’re onto our 10th game of Candyland. This is where it all went down.
Delaney has won 5 games. Coop has won 4. I say “hey guys, let’s do something else.” They respond with “Daddy, you haven’t won yet.” Yeah, well, every time I get past the Ice Cream Cone, I draw a damn Gingerbread man again. That guy is a jerk. And, I’m back near the starting line again. I’m glad the fox ate the gingerbread man. He deserved it with his wry smile and open arms as if it say “here I am, pick me again Mr. Smith, you moron.” Sorry. I’m having flashbacks.
So, picture this. I’m between the Lollipop and the Ice Cream Cone again. I know that the jerk (see Gingerbread man) still hasn’t been drawn yet. I also know that I’ll never play Candyland again if I can just win one game. Delaney is a double purple behind me. Cooper just drew the Candy Cane. Goody-Goody Gum Drops, I have my opening. I need a Double Blue, Double Green, and a Double Red. I do all of that and I’ll be watching Game 162 of the baseball season. So, I draw, and I’ll be damned, that sweet little bastard is staring at me again. Nope, not happening. I drop all of the cards on the floor. Delaney screams out “Daddy, what happened?” I respond with “I don’t know, my hand just started shaking. Are we having an earthquake?” Cooper chimes in with “Sure, I’ll take a milkshake.” No, I said “earthquake.” And, we all proceed to clean them up. Kids under the table, me in my chair, orderly putting the cards back in the pile with every 3rd card being a Double Blue, Double Green and Double Red. Huh, funny how that worked out.
So, a few minutes later, I win. Game Over. And, finally, I get them each some milk, so we all can take a little Sunday nap. As the three of us fall into the couch, Delaney looks at me says “Daddy, I think you cheated.” What??? “I think you dropped those cards on purpose.” And what gives you that idea Delaney? “Well, we went through the entire deck of cards, and no one picked the Gingerbread man. It seems that you always pick it, and that’s “shady;” Her word, not mine, by the way.
So, call me Shady. Call me a Gingerbread Man Hater. But, I swore that table started to shake on that 1st Sunday in October in 2009, and for that I’m not sorry. There. It’s out there now. Whew, I feel better.
As a present to myself, I think I’ll go pour myself a tall glass of milk, eat a few sugary little men with candy buttons and outstretched arms then finish this little nightcap off with a nice smile.
I guess you could call me a “Poor Sport.”
-Daddy
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