May 2 – “the Challenges”

“Let’s play a card game,” she said with a gleam in her eye.  I should have known something was up.  But ever the doting grandfather, how could I say no to such a seemingly innocuous request.  What could happen? 

Chris was cleaning up the kitchen and she planned to join us as soon as she finished.  I joined Cailyn at the recently cleared off supper table, and she handed me the stack of cards.  “You deal,” she demanded, the gleam in her eye narrowing ever so slightly.  With grandfatherly-esque clumsiness I shuffled the deck a time or two and queried, “So how about a game of Kings in the Corner?”  That has been her favorite for quite some time.  I don’t remember which grandkid taught it to us, but it is sort of another version of group solitaire.  Simple.  Not too challenging.  Educational, even.  Surely Kings in the Corner it would be …

But no.  The gleam was all but gone now, replaced instead with the determined glower of competition.  “Let’s play Egyptian Rat Killer instead.”  Uh oh.  Now we have changed more than just the game.  See, Rat Killer combines the nuances of simple arithmetic into the horrific context of War.  It involves - no, expands upon - the most violent portions of the game Slap Jack, adding more opportunities for slappage than poor Jack ever imagined.  And with the object of the game being to garner all of the cards for yourself, it capitalizes on that most ravenous of the seven deadly sins – Greed.

So Cailyn – sweet, adorable, kind, loving Cailyn – chose Egyptian Rat Killer as her game of the evening.  And play it we did.  And the more we played, the more “into it” Cailyn got.  Slaps became slams.  Subtle groans of defeat became loud cries of anguish.  And then came … the Challenges.  No, there are no formal “challenges” in this game.  It’s pretty much slap or be slapped.  But last night was no ordinary game, mind you.  There would be no losses for Cailyn this night. 

By this time Chris had joined us, and was probably wishing there was more to do in the kitchen.  I won a particularly close slap, and Cailyn attacked, grasping for the cards and giggling in a hilarious, yet frightening, manner.  And just as suddenly she settled down, ready for the next round of play.  All went well until the next close slap, and she was upon me again, this time leaping into my lap for better leverage to get the cards.  I slyly granted her two or three from the stack, none of which were valuable.  By this time she (and, I admit, me too) was laughing uproariously with an uncontrollable cackle.  And when Nani won the next round, that was all she wrote.  Cailyn was on her like butter on toast.  Laughing and screaming.  Cards flew in every direction.  It seemed like a good time for me to softly announce, “I think I’ll turn on the Astros game.” 

All agreed that the timing was right for a break from such a taxing evening activity.  Cailyn did inform us that, “That is how Mommy plays when my Daddy is at work.”  Ah, so the competition gene strikes again, eh? 

Psalms 57:7-8 says, “My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.  Awake, my soul!  Awake, harp and lyre!  I will awaken the dawn.”

Father, thank you for games and laughter and learning from Moms and Dads.  Amen.