Gaming the Outcome
Don’t read this if you are under 10 years old.
Christmas was 18 days ago. My wife got me a few board games for Christmas. They were greatly appreciated because I play games with my guy friends every month. We don’t play poker in our undershirts while scratching ourselves; we don’t play charades and act out clues; we play analytical games that come with twenty page instruction manuals and game cards that are written in German. We carefully put game pieces in little ziplock bags to keep them pristine after we play. No one, except the four of us who play, understands why we do any of this.
So when my wife gave me two games that we actually might play on one of those weeknights, I was impressed. You can’t exactly get them at Walmart or Toy-R-Us.
And I did something no husband should ever do. I asked her who helped her pick the gifts out. She was incredulous. How dare I assume that she couldn’t pick them out by herself.
Uh, oh.
Attempting to claw out of hot water, I indicated that I merely wanted the opportunity to thank one of my fellow gamers for assisting her with her greatly appreciated gesture. A few awkward moments later she admitted that she had sought assistance.
Chris did pretty well at picking out her own gifts for me to pretend to give to her. The girls got stuff from Santa that they had been looking forward to. Marissa’s birthday is in mid-January and she started counting down the days soon after Christmas. Three weeks is an excruciatingly long interval between gifts for a 6-year-old.
Thank goodness she lost her first baby tooth today. Another opportunity for STUFF!
Her big tooth had already come in on the bottom and was pushing the little one out further and further. She had two rows of teeth. For the past few days, Chris had been suggesting that it needed to be pulled out. This was a terrifying prospect to Marissa so I suggested we let nature run its course.
It had been loose for weeks and last Monday, when the girls had gone back to school and I still had one more day of time off, I went to the bank and requested dollar bill coins. Something I’m pretty sure Marissa hasn’t seen. The male teller asked if I wanted silver Susan B. Anthony coins or gold Sacagawea ones. When I said “I think the Tooth Fairy prefers gold,” the female teller in the adjacent window perked up and the first teller referred me to her.
Since I had a $5 bill, I requested five coins and the teller looked over her stash of coins and thoughtfully picked out the shiniest ones. My 2-year-old in tow was obvious to the transaction.
That evening I told Chris that I was prepared for Marissa’s rite of passage… And Chris asked who had helped me with the idea to get the coins.
I was incredulous.