T and I spent our Friday night embroiled in another of our ongoing grudge matches. The competition was fierce, the smack-talk was furiously flying, and there was no escaping the intensity of the moment.
I speak, of course, of the continuing saga of Scrabble.
Scrabble is one of the few board games I am always willing to play. Due, mostly, to the fact that I read with an appetite most people generally reserve for hard drugs or sex addiction, I have something of a word-oriented brain. Don't ask me to do math beyond basic algebra, but when it comes to words... well, I'm something of an idiot savant. (Notwithstanding all indications to the contrary on the "savant".)
I also seem to have an uncanny knack for pulling good tiles -- as evidenced by the time I opened with Tornado on my first turn. Those just happened to be the first 7 tiles I pulled that day. Fortunately for me, it was on our vacation to Camden, Maine - which means T can never pretend NOT to remember that time that I had him beat ON THE FIRST TURN.
But I'm losing my grip. Somehow, I am slipping.. Because, in Friday night's game? The final score was 154 to 148.
I only just barely won.
At this rate? I'm going to have to actually learn how to properly play Chess. Because, somehow, winning at Candy Land just doesn't bring the same sense of satisfaction.
Also? I might need to find some new pastimes. Perhaps ones which do not scream "BOOKISH NERD!" quite so loudly.
Because nothing says "Lucky To Be Getting Laid" quite like an inability to find anything better to brag about than beating your husband at Scrabble. By six points.
1 comment:
I remember stumping my husband with ALPACA once...it was on my very first round! And he didn't know what an alpaca was, so I had to prove that it was a word. I still rib him about it!
Post a Comment