Yesterday was quite a glorious day. For reasons that entirely escape me, TinyTuna had school, but I had the day off of work. Bless those weekend holidays. For once it was Bank Error in my Favor.
Go directly to GO.
Like a lady of leisure, I dropped TinyTuna at school, returned home and ate a breakfast that didn't include the trinity of grease, paper and smiling clowns. I was preparing myself for the dumping of the day.
Day Four: Games
There were definitely some winners here. We bid farewell to the classic Candyland. GramTuna gleefully disposed of her nemesis, the evil rhyming rabbit, nap-delaying Uncle Wiggly. We also packed up Chutes and Ladders, but I wasn't too sorry to see this one go, because I swear, every time you hit square 89 you get sent back down to 14. And it never ends until you purposefully miscount (1-2-3-8!) to end the misery. And whereas I found this to be a minor annoyance, at least I didn't go overboard with statistical analysis like this joker.
I also said so long to The Ghost of Forgotten Christmas Presents (not from me) Past, like The Lizzie McGuire Board Game (Hilary Duff! Hilary Duff! Mom, it's Hilary Duff!). I had to do it because first of all, it's Hilary Duff, second of all, TinyTuna has never touched it, and third of all, it's Hilary Duff. Seeya H. Don't let the dice hit your Duff on the way out.
Just when things were Skittles and beer, I discovered the secret game annex in the basement. UGH! More Games! Dragging those upstairs, I found TWO Clue games (cull one) and Battleship, which was a keeper. I like Battleship. I like when I play Battleship and my ships are perhaps a wee more mobile during the game than the rules intend them to be.
Kobayashi Maru, anyone?
For those of you playing along at home, that was an extremely obscure Star Trek reference.
Finally I packed up TinyTuna's worst nightmare, Operation. This particular entertainment, purchased by NOT ME is everything she hates in this world: sudden loud noises. The premise of the game is to fish out tiny plastic body parts with a pair of tweezers while not touching the metal outline, which would in turn create the SUDDEN LOUD NOISE of HATEFUL NOISES.
She tried playing it, once.
But it only took one ZZZZZZZT and she put it away. Forever.
And who could blame her? I mean, look at this thing:
You have the jolliest crew of unhygienic quacks poised over Mr. Nearly Naked Didn't They Have Any Bigger Sheets To Cover Up That Beer Gut Red-Nosed Guy. The Old Fart doctor has already gleefully started to dig into his leg, and the other guy looks like Jack Nicholson from The Shining. I'm not sure what's up with the girl and her love ballet ... with an apple. As for the kid with the bucket, I'm guessing his job is to scoop up the parts and sell them on eBay.
Hey, it could happen.
Later that night, we settled in for a game of Clue. As we played, TinyTuna assumed her persona and dragged the various suspects into the room and arranged them just so. Then she launched into her interrogation monologue that only a two-inch plastic Miss Scarlett could love.
You just KNEW she would be Miss Scarlett, didn't you?
In the end, much to my dismay, I DID IT.
But much to my delight, I WON.
Who says crime -- and cleaning -- doesn't pay?