The rainy school holiday turned into family game day. We pulled out the original, 35-year old board game, kept pristine somehow by my mother-in-law, the same one I'm desperately trying to keep my kids from ripping apart. But it was competition as usual in our house. A full-body-contact sport involving tumbling, tackling, grabbing, throwing and the ripping of dice out of other players hands. Personalities were on full display. The spacey, the compassionate, the unforgiving, compromising.
There were two teams. One parent on each. My husband tends to trade, compromise, spend, mortgage. I hoard, save, amass, annihilate, pummel beyond recognizability. Needless to say my son and I won, ending up with all of the money and property. The first time in my Monopoly game playing history. It was beyond ugly. It was one of those moments I wanted to break the reflection in the mirror. Ever been there?