Eat your Apples to Apples

Out of duty to time-honored traditions of the past, Sunday nights in our family are reserved for spiritual songs, thoughts, scriptures, and lessons in the way of "Family Home Evening." In contrast, Monday nights are a time for riotous frivolity and tomfoolery, mayhem and untainted wantonness: The main event usually consists of a contest to see who can drop the greatest number of masked insults before someone decides that the usual fail-safe - a swift smirk, followed by an innocent face and "Just kidding!" - no longer applies. Hilarity (also known on occasion as complex and/or illogical verbal battles, tears, slamming doors, and the occasional parental threat) ensues. However, in between and sometimes during rounds of this, we usually watch a movie or do the dishes or play a game.

Speaking of games, one of our favorites is "Apples to Apples." We play this game so often that we have acquired our own family traditions within the context of playing the game. For example, it is practically a rite to pick out random green (adjectival) cards after the game to describe "the way [insert family member's name] feels at Christmas," or red (nominal) cards to describe "what [X] will get [X] for Christmas." (By the way, I'm not sure why all the Christmas references come to mind...something about the red/green element of the game? Fact that we got it as a Christmas gift?)

Another thing we like to do is have our dog, Teddy, play.


This practice developed when there were only two of us willing and wanting to play the game at a certain time. And as we all know, the game requires at least three players (or two players and a stuffed animal, I suppose). Now, Apples to Apples being designed for humans, and Teddy being a dog, the results are quite funny, pitiful, and occasionally unpredictable. As none of us could be allowed to knowingly "choose" Teddy's card, we developed random methods to "select" red cards for him to play (i.e. number of licks, licks to a particular finger, sniffs of a particular card, completely and totally random, etc). The same rules apply to Teddy's choosing the winning red card, should he happen to be the judge.

I love it when Teddy plays. He's such a good sport - he never complains about getting a rotten draw or losing a round which he deserved to win - and creates such comedy for the rest of us by choosing the oddest of cards, like "Earthquakes" for "Cute," or "The 21st Century" for "Delicious." If you're the judge, and a particularly ridiculous card comes up ("The Eiffel Tower" for "Frazzled," say), it's a good bet the card is Teddy's. And when he manages to astonish us all by winning a round or two, it's a great opportunity to get rid of your worst red card, since he assumedly has no idea which one he's choosing ("Lenin's Tomb" is "Dainty"? Sure, why not!?).

But in all the years that we've played Apples to Apples, Teddy never actually won a game until last week. I mean, it's not exactly a game of luck! Witness the serious and lengthy amount of time, energy, and effort often required to select these cards and to agonize about which one deserves to win. Witness also the heated arguments and debates which take place in defense or attack of a particular decision. Even luck with good cards isn't enough to help you if a particular judge disagrees with your interpretation of a certain adjective.

Be this as it may, whether by inordinate good luck on his part or bad luck on ours, and with all the odds against him, Teddy officially won his first game of Apples to Apples last week. I didn't know whether to be proud (Attaboy! The classic story of the underdog win!) or embarrassed (Yeah, I lost the game...to our dog.). I may have to reconsider all that stuff about it not being a game of luck...cause that's what is was, right? RIGHT!? Whatever the secret is, Teddy's not talkin'. And if he can win Apples to Apples, what's to stop him from winning ANY game based on the luck of the die? What will happen to reputations established over years on the continual winning of board games such as Yahtzee and Sorry?

Anyway, another one of our family traditions is that the winner has to put up the game. Naturally, this one fell by the wayside that day, which just goes to show that you can't rely on anything anymore.