The views expressed in this blog are personal and not representative of the U.S. Government, etc etc etc.
Read at your own risk.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Saturday night

Back in the bygone-days Saturday night was a time anticipated all week.  As a youth there were stake dances, dates, movies, and parties.  When I was in college there was more of the same, but at later hours and lasting into the wee hours of the morning.  I have nodded/slept my way through many a sacrament meeting after a night of whatever my Saturday nights used to consist of.

Now that I have children and the workweek has changed to Sun-Thursday, Saturday night has calmed down considerably.  However, I still like to enjoy my Saturday night, and so last Saturday after the children had been put to bed after a long afternoon of swimming, and were asleep (or at least quietly reading), Brandon and I set to enjoying our evening.

It was my turn to choose the activity, so I chose one of my personal favorites: Scrabble.  The game started out well for Brandon, aided by the soothing songs of Nate King Cole, Kathleen's favorite singer.  His first word garnered him twenty points, and mine a mighty four.  This trend continued until, after the first several turns, Brandon had made it past one hundred and I was up to an impressive twenty.

The tide turned, however, when I engaged in an unapologetically amazing act of cheating that involved tile-switching (completely legal by house rules), creating a new word, and using a foreign word.  After garnering a house-record 104 points for Squeezeur (noun: a French male who squeezes), I owned the game thereafter.

My lead was only further cemented by continued cheating (tile-switching, removing a letter present on the board [questionably legal], and making two words into one) to create pinecone (with the 50-point bonus for using all tiles: 72 points).  By the end of the game I ran out of scoring capability on our counters which means that my score was over 400 points, also a house record.  My cheating was of such a degree that Brandon didn't even try to protest my score on grounds that I had cheated.

His wounds, however, were soothed with the McFlurries that were delivered to our door (after ordering them online), even if they were half the size, not mixed, and twice the price of something comparable in the States.  The game wrapped up at 9, and we were in bed by 9:30.

I've heard that Cairo some nice cultural offerings, but who needs the ballet when you can have a Saturday night like ours?


PaulaJean said...

Let the record state that you didn't learn such tricks at home. :-)

Ashlie said...

Haha! Sounds like fun, however, I will remember your cheating ways if ever we play Scrabble together. Have you every played Bananagrams? It's kind of speed Scrabble-esque, and I'm addicted!

UnkaDave said...

Let the record show that your mother cheats whenever the opportunity presents itself - at games, I mean.
This harks back to our childhood friends the Clarks, who by the way have mostly ended up badly, for whom cheating was an assumed part of the game.
You have a patient husband, who has all my sympathy.

Jessica said...

ahhh... the life of McDonalds Delivery- they did that in Argentina and I miss it so much! I can't even tell you how many times I've turned to Doug and said, let's call for some ice cream! Only to have him look at me like I'm crazy.