I've been a bit remiss in posting the last week. Not because I haven't written - - I have all kinds of stories for you kids. But my family lives in a part of Hell known as "Dial-Up Country" and I refuse to deal with that. So, you've been blogless lately. I'll do what I can to make up for that . . . but don't hold your breath. I'm only in town tonight. Then I'm gone again until after New Year's. I MAY post from my vacation destination. The following was penned about Saturday, December 16th.
It is my personal belief that anyone who yells “CHARADES!!!” when asked “What sounds like fun?” should be sentenced to death by firing squad. Sans blindfold.
And anyone who seconds that motion should be strapped to a board and forced to endure water torture or 12 continuous hours of Barney! LIVE. A few repeats of “and the green grass grows all around, all around, and the green grass grows all around” and they will learn that Charades is never an acceptable past time.
Saturday night a rather impromptu Christmas party, of sorts, popped up. Clark and Mandy, Ally and Chad and then the two singles: Ally’s sister Diane and, of course, me. After all conversation was exhausted, Clark surprised us by suggesting we play games. That was Mandy’s cue to drag out every board and card game imaginable. I was perusing Pictionary (a game I hadn’t seen in someone’s possession since I was in Junior High) when Ally practically screamed, “I know! Let’s play CHARADES!!!”
I thought she was joking. SURELY, she was joking. But the look on her face, and her husband’s enthusiastic nod, were enough to tell me that she wasn’t. I looked to her sister, Diane, for help but she too was smiling and nodding. I had to stop myself from digging the short stubby Pictionary pencils from the box in front of me and stabbing them in the eyes. Charades?
Look, I only voluntarily perform any semblance of Charades once to twice a year. And, even then, only when it’s part of another game entirely: Like Cranium. I’m all about some Cranium. But Charades? Standing alone? I would rather organize a CD collection alphabetically, thank you. Clark had the same pained look on his face that I had, so I thought I might be saved. “Ummm . . . Ally, we’re not really Charades people. In fact, the lazier we can be during a game, the better. How about Monopoly? Monopoly doesn’t require a lot of movement.”
Just as I began to nod MY head enthusiastically, Mandy – that Judas – betrayed us both. “Come on, guys, Charades sounds like fun! We can do teams! Meghan can be with us and Diane can play with Ally and Chad!” Charades does not sound like fun. Charades sounds like the worst game ever created. I know that some of you would argue “Dodgeball.” However, Dodgeball is just cruel – not unusual. At least in Dodgeball you get to throw something at the person annoying you.
I didn’t even try to whisper as I looked at Clark and said “You married her.” He leaned over to me and quietly said “Think if we start being louder, we can wake Emma up and get out of playing, at all?” I elbowed him for even thinking about waking my sweet girl up and then suggested we light the Christmas tree on fire. He countered with, “I think we’ve got some tequila in the kitchen. Maybe if we started doing shots, Charades could be bearable.” I shook my head forlornly and said, “There’s not enough Patron in the world to make Charades bearable.” Clark nodded solemnly in agreement.
This is when Mandy interrupted with, “Well! If you two are going to be so negative about this, maybe you just shouldn’t play.” YES! I was going to be saved after all! Though I realized she was completely trying to guilt/reverse psychology us into playing, I wasn’t falling for it. Yay! No Charades! But before I could launch myself to my feet to perform my Happy dance, Clark RUINED it by saying “We’ll play.” Agh! I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to look at him and say, “We? You got a mouse in your pocket?” But I was already getting labeled Negative Nelly and decided to swallow that caustic remark.
And so Charades began. Now, I could bore you with the details of how 6 adults managed to miss EVERY.SINGLE.CLUE. that was acted out. Or how Ally fancies herself the Meryl Streep of silent film. Or how Diane got sick of Ally overacting constantly and threw a pencil at her chest - - only her aim was off and she nailed Ally in the eye, thus ending her promising acting career. But I don’t want to bore you with any of those details.
I’ll simply tell you how the game ended.
Mandy was getting increasingly hostile as Clark and I decided “Screw it, let’s have some fun” and didn’t even try acting out the clues anymore. During his turns he was just acting like a mime and I was yelling answers that made no sense at all. An example would be when he was acting out a “movie” and pretended to be trapped in a glass box. Instead of yelling “Trapped!” that Kevin Bacon cinematic classic (sarcasm evident) I yelled “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!” which made Clark collapse in laughter and Mandy turn purple in anger. She then commenced telling Clark what an asshole he was and couldn’t they just have fun for once and why did he have to be so negative about these things . . blah blah blah, whine whine whine. Thus ticking Clark off. So Clark jumps up and says, “Alright, Damnit! We’ll play for real! This one’s a common phrase, see if you can guess it!” He then stands very still, shakes himself once like he’s clearing the mechanism for Charades greatness and then slowly raises both middle fingers and waves them at his wife.
Oh! Oh! I know that one!