Monday, December 22, 2008

why I am not a professional gambler

Last night was card-playing night with housemate Albert and Krissy's niece Kasie who was staying overnight to get a headstart on driving with Krissy to a family party from which I am immune, as we have four dogs who can't be left untended for a twelve hour day if we hope to have a house here when we get back. Thank the gods for dogs, because my family party experiences did not prepare me for this kind of thing. In my family we believed in the adults getting somewhat plastered and then my mom agreeing to let my uncle pull me behind his car on a sled tied with rope (I kid you not). Because I think my mom wasn't really enthused about parenthood.

Anyway, if I had video of this card game it would be a YouTube sensation, consisting of the thirteen year old girl constantly asking about cards sitting face up on the table "wait, what's that being played on?" alternated with whining "that's not fair!" when she wasn't doing well and then backpedaling with an oh-so-clever "just kidding" because otherwise she knew that flames would actually burst from my forehead and sear off her hair and she wants to look good in the holiday pictures. And then our charming dog becoming possessed by dog demons and insisting on sitting in the center of the table - not a small dog, mind you, a Vizsla-sized dog, and refusing to be removed so that I had to pull her off against all her efforts to brace her feet and cause herself to magically weigh 1200lbs. Albert drank more and more scotch and I don't think he could even remember what game we were playing but in the end somehow won anyway because the universe is just not fair and that's the way it is, so get over it, Kasie. Oh, and who was the bigtime bottom of the heap loser? Oh, yes, that would be me.

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