Monopoly

My men love games.

They've recently been playing Sorry. And this evening they suddenly dragged out Monopoly.

Now this seems a bit early to me. I mean... where are the Chutes and Ladders? Candy Land? Mousetrap?

Monopoly. Really? The kid isn't three yet! I say let him live in game innocence a bit longer.

Unfortunately, these are the opinions of only half of the parenting committee. And the other half of the parenting committee thought it was time.



Oh my.

I won't go into my thoughts about playing Monopoly with my husband. I mean I won't actually SAY my thoughts. But I think you might just happen to get a feel for them. If you really use your intuition and read between the lines you might be able to figure it out.

All I will say is that if my son wants to go there... more power to him. Literally. Maybe the only one who will be able to rise above his father's Monopoly ways is the very boy he will teach the game to.

At least that is what I'm hoping.

So...



It started with a dice rolling lesson. "Hold them like this. Now tip 'em over. Be gentle. Keep 'em on the table. Don't mess up the pieces."

Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.



My boy is a quick learner.



The game was all well and good. Counting spaces. Buying properties. Paying money.



Until this happened. Can you see the scheming in his eyes? I tell you I've seen that look before...

My husband played on my sweet, dear, innocent boy's love of 'ta-wains' and tempted him with two railroads in his possession. The trade could have been for Boardwalk and Park Place and my boy would have handed them over with his chubby little toddler hands and eagerly received the two railroads.

"You wanna give me wai-woads?"

He thought his Daddy was giving him the world...

There was no stopping them.



My boy took the bait and this trading injustice took place.



H was thrilled with his new cards. He did what any proud deed holder of four railroads would do.



He surveyed them. Counted them. Looked 'em over for authenticity...



... and then tucked them in the waist of his Wall-E undies, naturally.



And the rest of his properties (you know... the valuable ones) lay forgotten on the coffee table.

The problem with this trade - as you could have guessed - is that it gave Mikey a monopoly on light blue.



And Mikey having a monopoly on anything is never good.

Never.

Ever.

Ever.

Back in the day, when I actually would play this game with my husband, it was at this point I should have learned just to cover my eyes, plug my ears, mutter something about the popcorn burning, nudge all my money across the table with my elbow and make a run for it. I might have lost Marvin's Garden's and a bit of dignity, but I could have at least salvaged my marriage.

He he.

You know I'm kidding. At least sorta. But it's funny, right? I mean I'm laughing...

Aaaaaanyway...



I knew what it was coming.

Before H's 'ta-wain' deeds had even a chance to soak up sweat from inside his underwear, Mikey has already broken ground and had built three hotels on his new properties. I could even hear the neighbors complaining about the noise and how their view of the Atlantic was blocked. No one was happy about this. No one.

The game continued for about 2.5 more rounds when my boy ran out of money. Mikey gallantly offered to take Park Place off his hands to cover the ten dollar debt. My son refused. At that my point my heart swelled with pride for the way H stood up to that meanie tycoon Daddy.

"You wanna quit and call it a tie?" Mikey asked him.

"Yeah." my boy replied.

"But you know I really won, but we'll just call it a tie, right?"

Mikey wanted a little acknowledgment from someone that he had actually won the game. But he never got it cause my boy was already climbing over the back of the couch and you know all he was getting from me were two rolling eyeballs...

Game over.



Someday this sweet boy will learn of the injustice done to him.

Someday, he'll fight back.

I hope I'm there to see it.