Eli recently found our old Othello game. He and Jon dug up the rules online because we couldn't remember how to play. For the first game, Jon took on Eli. Jon lost. By a lot. The next night Eli offered to play me. I have memories from my youth about being really good at this game, so right away I decided that maybe I should go easy on him so that he did not get discouraged. By about turn four, I barely had any white guys left on the board. So I decided it was time to play for real and buckled down to the task of whooping my 8 year old son. It didn't happen. He beat me handily. Afterward, as he was savoring victory and I was searching for any excuse for my humbling defeat I said, "But Eli, you have to admit that I pointed out a few good moves to you." "I don't remember you saying anything, Mom." Really? Then, "Well, atleast admit that quite a few times I reminded you to flip the pieces on the diagonal." (I did do that, I promise). "I have no such recollections, Mom." With a straight face! No such recollections! He briskly folded up the game, tucked it under his arm, and flashed me a wicked grin as he bounced up the stairs to try to victimize his poor father.
NOTE: Eli just read this entry and said that, actually, when I tried to make claims that I had helped him, he had said, "I deny everything." Now he just came into the room, saw me working on this and said, "Truth Patrol!!". I don't know if we should be relying on Mr. I Deny Everything to be the truth patrol, but maybe that's just me.
No comments:
Post a Comment