Saturday lunch has tipsily meandered into towards dinner. Time to bring out the taboo box. The girls are telepathic and bludgeon the boys who fumble around with ums and ers. Again. I think the arracks may have dulled the senses. But it doesn’t explain why the girls are so bloody good at guessing a phrase hidden on the other side of a card so quickly. They don’t take these seriously to use sign language. Its a grownup version of how they used to smash the boys at Pictionary before we all grew up. Now while beating us they reminisce about how sloppy we were at Pictionary.
You just can’t will I tell you. We are all adult enough to know that “its all how you play the game” is bull that you tell children. After thrashing the boys, the girls have a good laugh, clean up the dishes, and drive the drunks home. Slumped sleepily in the passenger seat I try to sort out their secret in vain. While piloting the chariot through the traffic, I think spousal unit is smiling some sort of secret smile.
At least I managed to wake up before lunch on a Sunday.