I grew up surrounded by cards players. My dad played
cards, my mom played cards, his mom played cards, her dad played cards. You get
it.
The grown up's played euchre while us kids hearing the ruckus, decided on a more civil game. Enter the game known as, spoons.
The object of the game, to be the first to get four of a kind and then grab a spoon. Usually played with four players and three spoons. This game is very fast paced, it is for this reason that the old folks never played. Cause of death, heart attack brought on by not cholesterol but a utensil.
Playing spoons was like musical chairs but with cutlery. Only the music never stopped, it was replaced with a hand slapping table gouging flurry of activity. This trumped the noise heard from the other table. My mother didn't appreciate us scratching the table up. The adults could slam their fists down on it and yell trump. That was okay. We were banished to a folding card table aka eating area for kids, in keeping with the seen and not heard rule. Only one problem. Well, a couple, we were seen, and we were heard. The folding table served its purpose with one exception, it bounced. Because it bounced, we needed catlike reflexes to grab the dancing spoons. Apparently, our family dog who never barked at the old folks, figured he be doing his owner (my mother) a service by keeping us in line, barked at us until were banished to who knows where. The things a dog will do for milk bone. The game was over. But we had other games to play. The where, was upstairs and the game was called sock hockey. But that dog, now an angry canine Zamboni, hindered our play there as well. Clearly this dog had a doggy treat addiction. Is it any wonder why we played outside. Mom's dog was a bitch
Comments
Post a Comment