Today is Sunday. That means no make-up, sweats, fresh baked cookies and game playing. It's all good.
Game playing in my house is not exactly the picture of familial joviality that you might see on one of those warm and fuzzy family game night commercials. Although there is rarely conspicuous blood shed, there is at least a fair amount of mental abuse.
During the epic Othello battle between my son and me, here are a few of the actual things that we said. If you’re planning to call child services, be sure to tell them he started it.
I'll let you figure out who said what. It'll give you something to do today.
“You are a cheater. A big, fat cheater. If not for the fact that it would ricochet off you and insult me, I would totally say something mean about your mamma right now.”
“You couldn’t beat a monkey at this game. A drunk, blind monkey.”
“Nobody likes a winner. Especially a winner that prances around singing, ‘I won! I won!’
“That was the stupidest move I have ever seen you make and I have seen you make a lot of stupid moves.”
“Girls don’t like winners. Furthermore, if you continue bragging about winning all the time, you will wind up spending all the weekends of your teenage years with members of the chess club, who will also come to strongly dislike you.”
“Why don’t you think about what you’re going to do instead of just doing it?” (Strangely enough, this is the internal dialogue I have with myself on a daily basis.)
“When I beat you, and I WILL beat you, the headline on the front page of your school newspaper will read, ‘Smart Mouth Bragger Boy Gets Spanked by His Mommy. Cries Like a Small Girl’.”
And finally...here's what we both said at the end of the World Series of Othello.
"I won because you cheated!"
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