The small crowd is breaking up, gathering serving dishes and leftovers to go, hugging good-bye, saying "Thanks so much" and "See you soon!" We wave cheerfully, collect the sticky cans and plates with pizza crusts and soggy chips, rinse glasses, and chat with a straggler mom who's come to take the last two boys. My husband settles down on the couch with the paper, and I stack the last items in the dishwasher and squeeze the soap in with a satisfying "splorp."
My daughter and a friend walk in a few minutes later, breathless and smiling from playing outside in the dark.
Visiting child: Hey,where are my parents?
I make the call.
[Ring ring]
Missing mom: So, what'd we forget?
Me: Your daughter.
Missing mom: No, seriously.
Me: Seriously. She's right here.
Missing mom: (clearly yelling to husband elsewhere in their house) Honey!
Me: We'll be happy to keep her, honestly. She's practically one of the family anyway.
[Muffled frantic conversation in background for several minutes. On our end, we are stifling a mass fit of the giggles]
Missing mom: I'll be right there.
I turn to the visiting child.
Me: You do understand what you've got here, right?
Visiting child: (grinning from ear to ear). Yep!
Me: OK, good.
The dishwasher hums as we turn on Sponge Bob, sit back and wait.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
His mom looks happy, too
Mom and I were chatting about the just-announced Oscar nominations. Running through the list of Best Picture candidates*, we hit Up in the Air. Both of us felt that it was good, but nowhere near the best movie of the year. And we both agreed that George Clooney had done much better work in Michael Clayton and Good Night, and Good Luck. But his performance, for Mom, was beside the point.
Mom: I think he had a catharsis in that movie.
He: A catharsis?
Mom: Yes. Because right after that, he suddenly got serious about his girlfriend, and introduced her to his mother. He's never done that before, believe me! But I think when he walked into that empty apartment, as that character who was so alone, it just hit him.
Me: Hit him how, exactly?
Mom: He understands now that he needs to be part of something, to have a family. I'm telling you, playing that guy woke him up. And even if he doesn't win the Academy Award, that makes it a great movie in my book. I'm just so happy for him, after all these years.
From this...
...to this:
* Mom's thoughts on the rest of the Best Picture slate:
Avatar - 3D upsets her stomach, not going to see it.
Hurt Locker - Tough story, very well done.
Up - Loves this movie, because it does a great job showing old people.
Precious - Can't bear to go. Hopes it wins something.
Inglorious Basterds - No interest. Looks vile.
The Blind Side - Movie of the week material.
District 9 - She's not a sci-fi apartheid person.
An Educaction - Hasn't come to her theater yet, but sounds interesting.
A Serious Man - Is that the gay one or the Jewish one? It's confusing.
Mom: I think he had a catharsis in that movie.
He: A catharsis?
Mom: Yes. Because right after that, he suddenly got serious about his girlfriend, and introduced her to his mother. He's never done that before, believe me! But I think when he walked into that empty apartment, as that character who was so alone, it just hit him.
Me: Hit him how, exactly?
Mom: He understands now that he needs to be part of something, to have a family. I'm telling you, playing that guy woke him up. And even if he doesn't win the Academy Award, that makes it a great movie in my book. I'm just so happy for him, after all these years.
A visual representation of George Clooney's catharsis
From this...
...to this:
* Mom's thoughts on the rest of the Best Picture slate:
Avatar - 3D upsets her stomach, not going to see it.
Hurt Locker - Tough story, very well done.
Up - Loves this movie, because it does a great job showing old people.
Precious - Can't bear to go. Hopes it wins something.
Inglorious Basterds - No interest. Looks vile.
The Blind Side - Movie of the week material.
District 9 - She's not a sci-fi apartheid person.
An Educaction - Hasn't come to her theater yet, but sounds interesting.
A Serious Man - Is that the gay one or the Jewish one? It's confusing.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
When life gives you graham crackers
...make these:
This was one of the LA Times' Top 10 recipes of the year. As soon as I saw the article I was salivating. Then, in an almost eerie confluence of events*, I happened to find myself with:
a) Stacks and stacks of extra homemade graham crackers
b) An obligation to provide dessert for a cocktail party at school**
c) Enough willpower not to dump the completely inferior Nanaimo Bars*** off at the party and instead eat every single one of these myself****.
Julienne's***** Graham Cracker Bars
Rich and chewy, deeply toffee flavored, with an amazing crunchy crust.
Crust
3 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
2 Tbs. flour
3/4 c. (1 1/2 sticks) butter, at room temperature
Heat the oven to 350. Using a hand or stand mixer, blend the crumbs, sugar, salt and flour together, and then add the butter, mixing until moist and well blended. Press the mixture firmly and evenly over the bottom of a 13x9 pan. Bake until the crust is golden brown, about 10 to 15 minutes.
Topping and assembly
2 1/2 c. brown sugar
4 extra large eggs
2/3 c. graham cracker crumbs
1 Tbs. butter, melted
1 Tbs. vanilla extract
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 c. pecans, chopped
prepared crust
powdered sugar, for garnish
While the crust is baking, in a large bowl whisk together the brown sugar, eggs and butter to blend. Add in the vanilla, salt, and baking powder and continue whisking until well blended. Stir in the pecans. Spread the mixture over the prepared crust, and return to the oven. Bake until the filling is dark-golden on top and jiggles slightly when tapped, about 20-25 minutes. Remove to a cooling rack and cool completely. Sprinkle cooled bars with a light dusting of powdered sugar, then cut into squares and serve. The bars can be made 1 day ahead and stored in an air tight container at room temperature.
* That fortune cookie was spookily on the money.
** You gotta love an elementary school that throws a cocktail party for a visiting accreditation committee. Shameless!
*** Didn't I say you should stay tuned? It was in the footnotes.
**** I only ate three right away, but I did keep all the little edge bits as a stash for later.
***** I have never visited, but this is a restaurant in San Marino which is now a "must go" outing for the Foodie Girls on the basis of this recipe alone. As soon as I bit into my first bar, I immediately ordered the cookbook. If the number of pages I tagged to try are any indication, this one will be firmly ensconced on my cookshelf in no time.
This was one of the LA Times' Top 10 recipes of the year. As soon as I saw the article I was salivating. Then, in an almost eerie confluence of events*, I happened to find myself with:
a) Stacks and stacks of extra homemade graham crackers
b) An obligation to provide dessert for a cocktail party at school**
c) Enough willpower not to dump the completely inferior Nanaimo Bars*** off at the party and instead eat every single one of these myself****.
Julienne's***** Graham Cracker Bars
Rich and chewy, deeply toffee flavored, with an amazing crunchy crust.
Crust
3 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
2 Tbs. flour
3/4 c. (1 1/2 sticks) butter, at room temperature
Heat the oven to 350. Using a hand or stand mixer, blend the crumbs, sugar, salt and flour together, and then add the butter, mixing until moist and well blended. Press the mixture firmly and evenly over the bottom of a 13x9 pan. Bake until the crust is golden brown, about 10 to 15 minutes.
Topping and assembly
2 1/2 c. brown sugar4 extra large eggs
2/3 c. graham cracker crumbs
1 Tbs. butter, melted
1 Tbs. vanilla extract
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 c. pecans, chopped
prepared crust
powdered sugar, for garnish
While the crust is baking, in a large bowl whisk together the brown sugar, eggs and butter to blend. Add in the vanilla, salt, and baking powder and continue whisking until well blended. Stir in the pecans. Spread the mixture over the prepared crust, and return to the oven. Bake until the filling is dark-golden on top and jiggles slightly when tapped, about 20-25 minutes. Remove to a cooling rack and cool completely. Sprinkle cooled bars with a light dusting of powdered sugar, then cut into squares and serve. The bars can be made 1 day ahead and stored in an air tight container at room temperature.
* That fortune cookie was spookily on the money.
** You gotta love an elementary school that throws a cocktail party for a visiting accreditation committee. Shameless!
*** Didn't I say you should stay tuned? It was in the footnotes.
**** I only ate three right away, but I did keep all the little edge bits as a stash for later.
***** I have never visited, but this is a restaurant in San Marino which is now a "must go" outing for the Foodie Girls on the basis of this recipe alone. As soon as I bit into my first bar, I immediately ordered the cookbook. If the number of pages I tagged to try are any indication, this one will be firmly ensconced on my cookshelf in no time.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
If I lived in Nanaimo, I'd be really fat
After a two month haitus, during which I baked my butt off, but not audaciously, I rejoin the ranks of Daring Bakers in January. Hence:
"The January 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Lauren of Celiac Teen. Lauren chose Gluten-Free Graham Wafers and Nanaimo Bars as the challenge for the month. The sources she based her recipe on are 101 Cookbooks and www.nanaimo.ca."
Clearly, as with the oh-so-French vols-au-vent challenge, I needed some translation. I took it in steps:
Part 1. Gluten-free. Given the amount of flour in my pantry, this was the true foreign element of the challenge. Hopefully will be able to bluff my way through*.
Part 2. Graham Wafer. Hmm. "Wafer" sounds suspiciously like a former-British-Colony way of saying "cracker". Hold that thought.
Part 3. Nanaimo Bars. I was stumped. I read on. Aha!
"Nanaimo Bars are a classic Canadian dessert created in none other than Nanaimo, British Colombia. In case you were wondering, it’s pronounced Nah-nye-Moh."
Canada...which is, in fact, a former British Colony! Apparently the entire province, if not country, is overrun with super sweet chocolate sugar bombs disguised as bakery items. If you go to the town website, you get the recipe. If you go to the town itself, you will obviously get a heart attack**. Someone needs to warn the Olympic committee immediately about this threat.
The challenge further included a short description of the triple layer diet killer from the North:
1. A bottom crust made of crushed graham "wafers", cocoa, butter, sugar, nuts and coconut
2. A middle layer of flavored custard***
3. A top layer of chocolate ganache
The challenge was to bake fresh graham crackers, using an adaptation of Nancy Silverton's recipe. Then to take those crackers, crush them to bits****, and assemble our interpretation of Nanaimo bars. My mission clear, I went to work.
Frozen butter bits, ready for their close up
The graham cracker dough comes together easily in the food processor.
The secret ingredient? Lots of honey...
Form a rectangle, and put in the fridge overnight.
Dough must be really cold when you roll it out.
I made circles, although traditionally, the crackers are square.
They seemed happy enough...
Little did they know those smiles would soon be crushed.
Melting butter, sugar, cocoa and an egg together.
I throw in some almond extract and Kahlua for good measure!
My "add ins" for that chocolate layer:
Crumbs, almonds, and rice Krispies (in place of coconut)
In the pan, ready for layer two
Fresh cream cheese Kahlua buttercream
Seriously out of control decadence here.
My favorite part of these bars.
Must use on the next carrot cake...or cake of any kind that I make!
Where they got the expression, the icing on the cake. Pure chocolate, butter, and a dash of espresso drizzled on top, then spread out to make layer three. The whole thing goes right into the fridge, and about an hour later...
A Nanaimo Bar, eh!
* I was. Although we were required to bake our own graham "wafers" we were allowed to use regular flour in the recipe if we liked. I liked. If you like, try the gluten-free version by substituting 1 c. sweet rice flour, 3/4 c. tapioca starch and 1/2 c sorghum flour for the flour in the original recipe.
** This is unfair speculation based on this challenge only. I am sure there are actually lovely stands selling seltzer water and fresh lettuce there, too, but they are not on the town website.
*** Another translation: Custard (in Canada) = pure buttercream frosting (everywhere else)
**** Really? A day of work, just to make crumbs??? Sigh. Luckily, the recipe makes a lot more than I needed for this challenge, and I found an unbelievably delicious way to use the extra. Stay tuned!
"The January 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Lauren of Celiac Teen. Lauren chose Gluten-Free Graham Wafers and Nanaimo Bars as the challenge for the month. The sources she based her recipe on are 101 Cookbooks and www.nanaimo.ca."
Clearly, as with the oh-so-French vols-au-vent challenge, I needed some translation. I took it in steps:
Part 1. Gluten-free. Given the amount of flour in my pantry, this was the true foreign element of the challenge. Hopefully will be able to bluff my way through*.
Part 2. Graham Wafer. Hmm. "Wafer" sounds suspiciously like a former-British-Colony way of saying "cracker". Hold that thought.
Part 3. Nanaimo Bars. I was stumped. I read on. Aha!
"Nanaimo Bars are a classic Canadian dessert created in none other than Nanaimo, British Colombia. In case you were wondering, it’s pronounced Nah-nye-Moh."
Canada...which is, in fact, a former British Colony! Apparently the entire province, if not country, is overrun with super sweet chocolate sugar bombs disguised as bakery items. If you go to the town website, you get the recipe. If you go to the town itself, you will obviously get a heart attack**. Someone needs to warn the Olympic committee immediately about this threat.
The challenge further included a short description of the triple layer diet killer from the North:
1. A bottom crust made of crushed graham "wafers", cocoa, butter, sugar, nuts and coconut
2. A middle layer of flavored custard***
3. A top layer of chocolate ganache
The challenge was to bake fresh graham crackers, using an adaptation of Nancy Silverton's recipe. Then to take those crackers, crush them to bits****, and assemble our interpretation of Nanaimo bars. My mission clear, I went to work.
Frozen butter bits, ready for their close up
The graham cracker dough comes together easily in the food processor. The secret ingredient? Lots of honey...
Form a rectangle, and put in the fridge overnight. 
Dough must be really cold when you roll it out.
I made circles, although traditionally, the crackers are square.
They seemed happy enough...Little did they know those smiles would soon be crushed.
Melting butter, sugar, cocoa and an egg together.I throw in some almond extract and Kahlua for good measure!
My "add ins" for that chocolate layer:Crumbs, almonds, and rice Krispies (in place of coconut)
In the pan, ready for layer two
Fresh cream cheese Kahlua buttercream
Seriously out of control decadence here.My favorite part of these bars.
Must use on the next carrot cake...or cake of any kind that I make!
Where they got the expression, the icing on the cake. Pure chocolate, butter, and a dash of espresso drizzled on top, then spread out to make layer three. The whole thing goes right into the fridge, and about an hour later...
A Nanaimo Bar, eh!This is an extreme close up, as the actual size of that bar is about 3/4" x 3/4", and even with a tiny bite of that tiny piece, I thought my head was going to explode from the sugar rush. They are decadent and totally deadly. Who knew those polite and neighborly Canadians had such a stealth weapon ready to go?
** This is unfair speculation based on this challenge only. I am sure there are actually lovely stands selling seltzer water and fresh lettuce there, too, but they are not on the town website.
*** Another translation: Custard (in Canada) = pure buttercream frosting (everywhere else)
**** Really? A day of work, just to make crumbs??? Sigh. Luckily, the recipe makes a lot more than I needed for this challenge, and I found an unbelievably delicious way to use the extra. Stay tuned!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Fortunately, I got this on a Monday
...so I have six whole days left to figure out what to do next week.
Monday, January 25, 2010
There's no such thing as free rent
When school was canceled recently*, I had two options for what to do with the kids:
A. Ignore them
B. Play with them
By a vote of 2 to 1, we went with option B**. The skies were darkly threatening, the rain was coming down in sheets, and an entire day stretched before us. Two faces looked at me expectantly. Had I been serious when I'd made the offer? Was this yet another cruel Mommy bait-and-switch where having fun somehow turned into no TV, homework and a shower? As I finished up the last of the morning chores, they were following me around in breathless anticipation. At last I turned to them, hands on hips, and spoke:
Me: Alright guys. We're going to play Monopoly. And we're going to play...
Them: (exploding with excitement and high fiving each other) YAY!!!!
Me: (holding up my finger for silence)...until someone wins.
Them: Whoa.
Me: That's right. We are going to attempt to do something that has never before been done in the history of our family. No time limits, no tantrums. We will go as long as it takes. We could still be here when Daddy comes home. In fact, I bet we'll be here for days. But we will finish this game.
Their eyes are like saucers and I see my daughter's lip trembling.
Me: And what I need to know, right here, right now, is -- are you with me?
They glance at each other. A quick, decisive nod passes between them.
Them: (solemnly) We're with you, Mom!
Me: OK then. Let's play.
Phase I: Getting Started
Her: Who's the banker?
Him: Mom's the banker.
Her: How come Mom is always the banker?
Me: Because it's fair that way. Hand over the money.
Phase II: Collecting Property
Him: Mom, you have like $6 left. Why are you mortgaging everything to buy Atlantic Avenue? I have the other yellow one anyway, so you can't get a monopoly.
Me: That's for me to know, and you to find out, Mr. Smarty Pants.
Him: You're crazy.
Me: Just roll.
Her: Hey! I'm collecting the railroads. Can you not buy that one?
Him: I kind of feel like buying this one. In fact, I think I love this railroad more than life itself.
Her: Mom!
Me: You can always trade him for it later, honey.
Her: I'll give you a thousand dollars not to buy that railroad.
Him: Sold!
Me: Sweetie, the railroad only costs $200. Plus, he doesn't even own the railroad, and you can't buy it until you land on it yourself.
Him: Mom! Shut up!
Her: A ha! Thanks, Mom. OK. I'll give you $800 not to buy that railroad.
Me: Sigh.
Her: (Screaming and running around in circles, waving the deed in her hand) I got Boardwalk! I got Boardwalk! I got Boardwalk! I RULE!!!
Him: We're doomed.
Phase III: Trading
Him: I've got Marvin Gardens up for grabs. Anyone except Mom interested? I thinking of someone who has Tennessee Avenue, perhaps?
Her: No. I want the Electric Company.
Him: I don't have that.
Her: Then we have nothing to talk about. Move on.
Her: Mom, I'll give you all my properties for the Electric Company.
Him: NO! She'll get like two monopolies and take all of our money! Don't do it! Stop!
Me: Honey, I can't take all your properties. How about if I just take the red one, the light blue one, and the orange one?
Her: Um...no.
Him: Thank the Lord!
Her: But you can have the pink one that I got from him, because I don't like pink. Just take it.
Me: Thank you, honey. But I feel bad not paying you anything, so here's $100.
Him: I can't believe this.
Me: OK. I'll give you North Carolina for Marvin Gardens, plus free rent on the reds for two turns.
Him: Done!
Her: What? FREE RENT?!? There's no such thing as free rent! You can't do that!
Me: Yes, you can.
Her: I never heard of that. DAD!
My husband: I am so not playing this game.
[Seven and a half hours have elapsed since we started. It is very dark out. We break for dinner, sleep, and school the next day. The game resumes that afternoon.]
Her: (having not only accepted the concept of free rent, but fully embraced it) I'll give you $500 and free rent for the rest of your life on all my stuff if you give me that railroad.
Me: Honey, you can't win the game if you don't ever charge your brother rent. There's only two possible sources of income for you, and he's one of them! Plus, if he only has to pay me, he'll never run out of money. Don't you see?
Her: You'll still have to pay me, right?
Me: Yes.
Her: Then it's fine. Are we good here?
Him: Heck, yeah!
Phase IV: End Game
Me: I want to buy 12 more houses.
Them: Mom! Why are you doing this to us?
Me: Because I have to go pee.
Him: I landed on Boardwalk...but wait! It's free for me!
Her: (Gives him a high five)
Me: That is so unfair.
Him: Just get my 200 bucks ready. I'm about to pass Go.
Me: That's right. And land smack on my hotel on Baltic Avenue, which is most definitely not free for you.
Him: That fleabag? I'd rather go to jail.
Me: You should be so lucky.
Her: Six, seven, eight, nine...Community Chest!
Him: How does she do that!? I have every one on that side and she gets Community Chest again?
Her: I won a beauty contest, too. That'll be $10.
Me: When I landed there, it cost me a fortune.
My husband: (passing through) Serves you right, bloodsucker.
[We recess for basketball practice, sleep and breakfast the following morning. The dishes have been rinsed, and the game begins again.]
Her: Four, five, six...Chance.
Him: Sigh.
Her: Get this! I'm Chairman of the Board!
Me: Let's see. Illinois with three houses is $330. Thank you for stopping by!
Him: (Turning in despair to his sister) Now do you see why it wasn't a good idea to give her the red one just because it clashed with your green ones? It's killing me!
Her: I'm sorry! I didn't know!
Him: Well...just...never mind. Mom, you're evil.
Me: I'm not evil; I'm just a good property manager.
Phase V: Victory
Him: That's it, I'm done.
Her: But wait! You can't lose! Here...have all my money and stay in. You don't even have to pay me back! We can still beat her, but I can't do it alone! PLEASE!
Him: I'm too far in the hole, and Mom's like the landlord from hell. She's everywhere, and she's not afraid to charge us. Face it. We're toast. Let's just stop now and go to In N Out.
Her: (wailing) Noooooo!
Me: (patting her back as I put away my stacks of money) I'm sorry, honey, but the game's over. Just think how much fun we had, plus it took me three whole days to win. That's a record for sure. So, how about if I pay for the cheeseburgers, and everybody has a shake, too. OK?
Her: (sniffling) OK.
Her: (in the car on the way to lunch) Can we have a rematch when we get home?
* Because it was raining. LA is already an object of ridicule in the rest of the country, and now this? My sister's entire class of college students was rolling in the aisles in Michigan.
** There was a third option, "shoot them", but as convenient as that sounded while they were screaming at each other over piles of discarded clothes and leftover breakfast plates, I quickly dismissed it as impractical. Not only is there some kind of waiting period for a handgun, but I'd be kicked out of carpool. I have a really good carpool.
A. Ignore them
B. Play with them
By a vote of 2 to 1, we went with option B**. The skies were darkly threatening, the rain was coming down in sheets, and an entire day stretched before us. Two faces looked at me expectantly. Had I been serious when I'd made the offer? Was this yet another cruel Mommy bait-and-switch where having fun somehow turned into no TV, homework and a shower? As I finished up the last of the morning chores, they were following me around in breathless anticipation. At last I turned to them, hands on hips, and spoke:
Me: Alright guys. We're going to play Monopoly. And we're going to play...
Them: (exploding with excitement and high fiving each other) YAY!!!!
Me: (holding up my finger for silence)...until someone wins.
Them: Whoa.
Me: That's right. We are going to attempt to do something that has never before been done in the history of our family. No time limits, no tantrums. We will go as long as it takes. We could still be here when Daddy comes home. In fact, I bet we'll be here for days. But we will finish this game.
Their eyes are like saucers and I see my daughter's lip trembling.Me: And what I need to know, right here, right now, is -- are you with me?
They glance at each other. A quick, decisive nod passes between them.
Them: (solemnly) We're with you, Mom!
Me: OK then. Let's play.
Phase I: Getting Started
Her: Who's the banker?
Him: Mom's the banker.
Her: How come Mom is always the banker?
Me: Because it's fair that way. Hand over the money.
Phase II: Collecting Property
Him: Mom, you have like $6 left. Why are you mortgaging everything to buy Atlantic Avenue? I have the other yellow one anyway, so you can't get a monopoly.
Me: That's for me to know, and you to find out, Mr. Smarty Pants.
Him: You're crazy.
Me: Just roll.
Her: Hey! I'm collecting the railroads. Can you not buy that one?
Him: I kind of feel like buying this one. In fact, I think I love this railroad more than life itself.
Her: Mom!
Me: You can always trade him for it later, honey.
Her: I'll give you a thousand dollars not to buy that railroad.
Him: Sold!
Me: Sweetie, the railroad only costs $200. Plus, he doesn't even own the railroad, and you can't buy it until you land on it yourself.
Him: Mom! Shut up!
Her: A ha! Thanks, Mom. OK. I'll give you $800 not to buy that railroad.
Me: Sigh.
Her: (Screaming and running around in circles, waving the deed in her hand) I got Boardwalk! I got Boardwalk! I got Boardwalk! I RULE!!!Him: We're doomed.
Phase III: Trading
Him: I've got Marvin Gardens up for grabs. Anyone except Mom interested? I thinking of someone who has Tennessee Avenue, perhaps?
Her: No. I want the Electric Company.
Him: I don't have that.
Her: Then we have nothing to talk about. Move on.
Her: Mom, I'll give you all my properties for the Electric Company.
Him: NO! She'll get like two monopolies and take all of our money! Don't do it! Stop!
Me: Honey, I can't take all your properties. How about if I just take the red one, the light blue one, and the orange one?
Her: Um...no.
Him: Thank the Lord!
Her: But you can have the pink one that I got from him, because I don't like pink. Just take it.
Me: Thank you, honey. But I feel bad not paying you anything, so here's $100.
Him: I can't believe this.
Me: OK. I'll give you North Carolina for Marvin Gardens, plus free rent on the reds for two turns.
Him: Done!
Her: What? FREE RENT?!? There's no such thing as free rent! You can't do that!
Me: Yes, you can.
Her: I never heard of that. DAD!
My husband: I am so not playing this game.
[Seven and a half hours have elapsed since we started. It is very dark out. We break for dinner, sleep, and school the next day. The game resumes that afternoon.]
Her: (having not only accepted the concept of free rent, but fully embraced it) I'll give you $500 and free rent for the rest of your life on all my stuff if you give me that railroad.
Me: Honey, you can't win the game if you don't ever charge your brother rent. There's only two possible sources of income for you, and he's one of them! Plus, if he only has to pay me, he'll never run out of money. Don't you see?
Her: You'll still have to pay me, right?
Me: Yes.
Her: Then it's fine. Are we good here?
Him: Heck, yeah!
Phase IV: End Game
Me: I want to buy 12 more houses.
Them: Mom! Why are you doing this to us?
Me: Because I have to go pee.
Him: I landed on Boardwalk...but wait! It's free for me!Her: (Gives him a high five)
Me: That is so unfair.
Him: Just get my 200 bucks ready. I'm about to pass Go.
Me: That's right. And land smack on my hotel on Baltic Avenue, which is most definitely not free for you.
Him: That fleabag? I'd rather go to jail.
Me: You should be so lucky.
Her: Six, seven, eight, nine...Community Chest!Him: How does she do that!? I have every one on that side and she gets Community Chest again?
Her: I won a beauty contest, too. That'll be $10.
Me: When I landed there, it cost me a fortune.
My husband: (passing through) Serves you right, bloodsucker.
[We recess for basketball practice, sleep and breakfast the following morning. The dishes have been rinsed, and the game begins again.]Her: Four, five, six...Chance.
Him: Sigh.
Her: Get this! I'm Chairman of the Board!
Me: Let's see. Illinois with three houses is $330. Thank you for stopping by!
Him: (Turning in despair to his sister) Now do you see why it wasn't a good idea to give her the red one just because it clashed with your green ones? It's killing me!
Her: I'm sorry! I didn't know!
Him: Well...just...never mind. Mom, you're evil.
Me: I'm not evil; I'm just a good property manager.
Phase V: Victory
Him: That's it, I'm done.
Her: But wait! You can't lose! Here...have all my money and stay in. You don't even have to pay me back! We can still beat her, but I can't do it alone! PLEASE!
Him: I'm too far in the hole, and Mom's like the landlord from hell. She's everywhere, and she's not afraid to charge us. Face it. We're toast. Let's just stop now and go to In N Out.
Her: (wailing) Noooooo!
Me: (patting her back as I put away my stacks of money) I'm sorry, honey, but the game's over. Just think how much fun we had, plus it took me three whole days to win. That's a record for sure. So, how about if I pay for the cheeseburgers, and everybody has a shake, too. OK?
Her: (sniffling) OK.
Her: (in the car on the way to lunch) Can we have a rematch when we get home?
* Because it was raining. LA is already an object of ridicule in the rest of the country, and now this? My sister's entire class of college students was rolling in the aisles in Michigan.
** There was a third option, "shoot them", but as convenient as that sounded while they were screaming at each other over piles of discarded clothes and leftover breakfast plates, I quickly dismissed it as impractical. Not only is there some kind of waiting period for a handgun, but I'd be kicked out of carpool. I have a really good carpool.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Divine intervention in Massachusetts
I was relieved to hear from my mom that the election of Scott Brown was more proof that God is indeed looking out for the president.
Mom: I know that everyone is upset about this thing in Massachusetts, but I think it's so good for Barack.
Me: How is that?
Her: It shows that he just shouldn't have had his name on that bill. God is protecting his legacy from bad legislation.
Me: But...
Her: Of all the things that history is going to write about him, that health care one was going to be bad. So God took it off the table. And now, he can move on and do other stuff instead. Isn't that great?
Me: But...
Mom: The only thing is, he needs to stop going places.
Me: Um, why?
Mom: First, he went to Denmark, and we didn't get the Olympics. Then he went to Massachusetts, and we lost that one. He's smart. He didn't want to go. But he listened to his advisers and look what happened. Next time, he should just trust his instincts and stay home.
She might have something there.
Mom: I know that everyone is upset about this thing in Massachusetts, but I think it's so good for Barack.
Me: How is that?
Her: It shows that he just shouldn't have had his name on that bill. God is protecting his legacy from bad legislation.
Me: But...
Her: Of all the things that history is going to write about him, that health care one was going to be bad. So God took it off the table. And now, he can move on and do other stuff instead. Isn't that great?
Me: But...
Mom: The only thing is, he needs to stop going places.
Me: Um, why?
Mom: First, he went to Denmark, and we didn't get the Olympics. Then he went to Massachusetts, and we lost that one. He's smart. He didn't want to go. But he listened to his advisers and look what happened. Next time, he should just trust his instincts and stay home.
She might have something there.
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