So, I was hanging at home yesterday with my parents and my little sister (whom I will call Boo) and she, as 9-year-olds tend to, announced that she was bored. When I asked what she wanted to do, she suggested a board game. Great, I thought, not too strenuous. I had been lounging on the couch watching TV, so a board game was exactly the kind of laziness that I was enjoying. Pretty happy with what was happening, I turned off the TV and went and sat up at the dinner table and waited for her to come back with a game.
And then she showed up carrying Monopoly.
For a game that almost everyone owns, Monopoly is notorious for destroying people. Think Gollum and the ring, destroying people. In my family, only Boo and I really play it at all. My older sister Beanz is too traumatised to play anymore (my fault, to be honest. We’re cool about it now.)
My parents refuse to play on pure principle. I think dad played with us when we were little and less vicious, but they’ve recognised the evil that is Monopoly and wisely stay away. With my mum, dad and Beanz out of the Monopoly picture, Boo and I are the only ones game to battle it out.
So far, our game is going well. (I say that because even though Boo has heaps more money, I have Park Lane and a house on Mayfair. Point made.) No one has started crying yet, no one has stormed out and there haven’t been cruel songs (me) or water fights (her).
Those are fun stories, actually. More later.