Though they'd probably not readily admit it, I think I have proof that the kids are starting to get a little tired of being off from school. Yesterday, they asked me to play a bored....I mean, board game. It was my oldest son's idea. I choose to believe it was because he wanted to spend some quality time with dear, old dad and his delightful siblings rather than because he was temporarily not able to access the internet on his lap-top. His game of choice is Trivial Pursuit. I remember when the game first hit the store shelves. The sister of a friend of mine worked in the factory where they printed the question cards. Whenever some "irregular" cards came through, she'd give them to my friend and he'd pass them onto me. You'd have to keep an eye out for some obvious mistakes like knowing that Madame Curie did not win the sumo wrestling championships in 1966. (That's an easy one...everyone knows Madame Curie was not a sumo wrestler. Her passion was curling.) Back before I was married, I used to play marathon sessions of Trivial Pursuit with my next door neighbor. He was much smarter than me. Or should that be I...no, me...no...myself. See, just thinking about that guy makes me...uh, I...me... self-conscious about my obvious lack of brain power. We would drink milk, eat a bag of store-brand chocolate chip cookies and play the game. Talk about your wild times. He always said I should be better at the game since anything with "trivial" in the title is right up my alley. I think that was a compliment. Or not. I'm not....I mean "Me" not sure.

Frankly, I've been told by my wife and kids, that I'm frustrating to play games with because I just don't have much competitive spirit. I really don't care if I win or lose. Maybe it is because I am such a good sport or it's a defense mechanism or a way to cover up my deep disappointment or just because I lose a lot. My wife, on the other hand, plays for keeps. Once, playing Scrabble, it looked like I might actually pull one out. Quickly, her words of choice changed in tone: "pain"..."injury"..."hemorrhage." On that last one, I just didn't have the nerve to point out that she was not allowed to pull whatever letters she needed out of the bag. I put "hi" on the board and then passed on the remainder of my turns. She won.

When the kids were little, we'd play CandyLand. Even if the little ones got tired of playing, my wife would insist we, the two of us, finish the game to see who would win. I never knew there was such a violent edge to that game until we played, one on one, what she referred to as "Commando CandyLand." All of a sudden, the Peppermint Stick Forest was more like the Rambo National Woods. I was picking those gingerbread people out of my ears two days later. Don't even ask how Chutes and Ladders used to unfold...I'm still having flashbacks. I have no doubt, she'd reduce Donald Trump to tears if they ever played Monopoly: "Okay, Donny Boy...I've got four hotels on Boardwalk so I want forty bazillion dollars and your hair." She takes her game-playing so seriously, that one little-known provision of The Patriot Act, prohibits her from even owning the game Risk. Once, we were playing Battleship at Grandma and Grandpa's house at the lake and she had successfully hit all my vessels. That wasn't enough for her, so she went down to the shoreline and sunk the pontoon boat.

As for yesterday's game of Trivial Pursuit, just about everybody (not me...I...Joel) had a piece of the pie. All four kids were nailing questions about art and literature, history, science, you name it. My little wheel of misfortune looked pretty sad and empty. It was particularly embarrassing to get beaten so soundly in light of the fact that we were playing the oldest deck of question cards possible...the original set from 25 years ago. This is stuff I should know and these little late-comers should not. I kept hoping for a question that would have the answer "Soviet Union" just because I was the only one old enough to really remember when it existed. Apparently, there is some show on VH-1 called I Love the 70s which has leveled the playing field with regard to trivial information. Not everything can be blamed on that show, however. I mean, how does a ten year old know who Nietzsche is AND what he believed? Why would a 13 year old know the rules of cricket? How did a 15 year old know the theme song from the TV show, My Mother the Car? What in the world is a 16 year old doing with knowledge of the chemical make-up of the whirligig beetle?

Just as it appeared I would be the only player not to get a piece of the pie, I got a question I could answer: "What is your middle name?" Now, I will admit, I've never heard that question before, during a game, and it seemed odd that that question would fall under the geography category, but I didn't argue. I took my blue pie piece and quit while I was on top. Okay, you're thinking that my kids took pity on me and gave me an obviously bogus question. You may be right, but, at this stage of the game...the big game, not just the board game...I will take any break I can!