My family, by nature, is couch bound. We chat (if the mood hits); we laugh with (at) one another; we watch (some profess skill) sports; we eat; we play board games. So today for my niece’s birthday, we combined forces and did a little of all of these. With the exception of the eating part – that wasn’t a little thing. Just ask my scales.
“Let’s play capture the flag, Grandma,” said the Bug. I don’t think so. He picked up on my look. “Okay, how about Olympians?” I’m thinking pentathlons and disk throwing is way too much activity. “No, Grandma, you pick your favorite Greek mythology god.” I can barely remember the name of my family members, let alone a Greek goddess.
“How about charades?” I asked. That was more low key. I showed them a few gestures for movie, book, song, and made up rabbit ears for TV. “Okay, I’ll go first,” I said. I made the “roll it” motion with my fist.
“Movie,” said the Worm. I nodded.
I held up three fingers. “Three words,” said the Bug. I nodded.
I pointed to my niece, then I moved my hands in a shapely woman form. After a couple of dumb answers, my daughter, the GAP said, “Lady.” I touched my nose. The GAP shouted out “Lady and the Tramp.” Again I touched my nose. “Mom, that’s four words.” I shrugged. Doesn’t close count in charades?
Soon more family members participated. It’s difficult finding games for ages spanning over half a century. One niece held up a thumb and fingers slightly apart from one another. “Little.” Then she laid on the floor, locking her knees and waving them back and forth. She did kind of look like a mermaid.
The Worm stood up to take her turn. “How many words?” I asked.
“Actually, I don’t really know,” she said, “I need a volunteer from the audience.” I think
she had this game mixed up.
On her next turn after announcing a two-word movie, when she acted out flipping the handle on an imaginary toilet, the Bug cleverly guessed “Harry Potter.” My brother thought it was “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” (he’s no better at counting than I am), when she stood and pulled up on her pair of pants.
I’m doing “Flushed Away,” said the Worm.
I was sitting on the floor. Perhaps the recent topics had been a little too suggestive. Whatever, a little toot escaped. The two-year-old Mouse was sitting on my lap. “Maddoc,” the GAP said in astonishment. He smiled.
“Did you let a stinker?” I asked him.
He nodded. I love a fall guy.