This past summer was a turning point for our family. Our youngest child, Michael, had turned four the previous winter and my husband and I found ourselves having time to actually sit and relax a little. Spending time with our children was leaving us with plenty of room for fun, and not merely exhaustion. So when our seven-year-old daughter, Annalise, suggested a family game night, we were thrilled. Had we really reached the point where we could all sit down and be entertained together?
What made this all the more exciting was that Annalise and Michael wanted to play Monopoly, and not the junior version, I might add. A real grown-up board game! Naturally, we readily agreed to their request.
We set a date and time for our family game night, and the kids anxiously anticipated it. There was no backing out now. When the night arrived, we set up Monopoly on the coffee table and decided to play in teams: girls vs. boys. After the first few rolls of the die, it became apparent that it takes a four-year-old quite a long time to roll, count the amount, and then move that many spaces. My husband and I exchanged a few raised eyebrows, and then secretly hoped Mike would roll anything under a six. We settled in for a long game.
The first half hour or so, everything went great, and we were all having fun. Yet, Monopoly is often never-ending, and we forgot that the attention spans of children under ten are not often made for the game. When Mike began dancing about, we knew we at least needed a potty break. He, on the other hand, believed otherwise, and insisted we keep playing. So, on Mike's next turn, he shook the die very hard, along with his whole body. The die landed on the board and he exclaimed, “Uh, Oh,” and before he had even looked at me, I knew we should have stopped for that bathroom break.
About this time, while my husband took Mike upstairs to change his clothes, Annalise decided that she was too tired to roll the die and move our game piece. She wanted me to be in charge of it. Since it had been her first week back at school, and I knew she really was tired, I agreed to be in charge. Actually, let's face it, I was thrilled to take control.
When the boys came back downstairs the game resumed, with mom and dad doing most of the playing. The children were slowly losing interest. My husband and I were still enjoying ourselves when our dogs, two lovely golden retrievers, ventured into the room to see what was going on. After they realized there was no food involved, they proceeded to wrestle at our feet. Suddenly, we found ourselves shouting over the dog's playful growls, and our children's giggles. Only when the dogs started trying to steal the Monopoly money from the table, just so they could tear it to pieces, did we realize our family game night was slowly turning into chaos.
Yet, we played on. The kids seemed to get a second wind, and we were all involved once again. Soon it was Mike's turn to roll, and he decided to give it all his might. He shook, and shook, and shook those die. Then, for some reason, one that might only occur to a four-year-old boy, he rolled the die right onto the floor. We all watched helplessly, as one rolled right under the big-screen TV, and out of sight.
My husband and I looked at each other, once again with raised brows. Bedtime was looking better and better. Annalise was all but asleep, anyway. Perhaps we were rushing this family game night thing, I mean, four is pretty young for a game of Monopoly.
I really didn't want to think that the whole night was a waste. Perhaps it was better to look at it as a first attempt. We would get better at it each time we gave it a try. Even though the game part of the night wasn't totally successful, we never did get to finish, it really didn't matter. In the end, it was the “family” part of the night that was the real success. We found the lost dice, put away the game, and we all went to bed with some memories that I hope will hang around for a long time.
