I try to be a fairly not too terrible person most days, at least when people are looking. But certain things unleash the beast within, effecting a Jeckyll and Hyde transformation in a matter of seconds.
One such thing is the game of Scrabble. Now it so happened that this weekend we had a house full of kids who asked to play the game. One had played it before but two second graders, including my grandson, were new to the game. I explained to my grandson that in this family Scrabble is not a game but a martial art in which no mercy or quarter is shown to one's opponents. Although I didn't use these exact words, I indirectly implied something to the effect that the goal is to crush one's opponents and drink from their skulls, metaphorically speaking.
We played a game and I attempted to instruct the beginners and help them with their words along the way. But when the scores were tallied...what can I say? In Dylan's words, "I can't help it if I'm lucky."
The other adults present pointed out that I was exulting in the defeat of two 8 year olds and a 12 year old. I pointed out, however, that this is the same mathematically as defeating a 28 year old. Besides, it was Scrabble.
Which means it was on.
POVERTY, WELFARE REFORM AND EVERYTHING AFTER discussed here.
A HUNTING WE DID GO. Early humans, that is.
PLATO AND EXERCISE discussed here.
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: ELEVATED