The other day at the back to school meeting, they advised that parents take time out every day to do a puzzle or play a board game with their child. They went on to say that it’s because it’s a good calming exercise to do with them. This sounds obvious, but it made me laugh at the realisation that their children are obviously not my children.
Playing board games with them is not fun.
This is what happens after the first two and a half minutes.
Shopping List : There are tears because F has more products than O. O swaps trolleys, F doesn’t realise. F then realizes. There is a fight, shopping trolley gets bent. The products get hurled across room. Game turns into fishing shopping list items out from under the sofa, my bra, leftover lunch.
Any puzzle: F likes to do puzzles when they are nearly finished. As in, the last piece needs to be placed. He will instruct you to do it with him, then he will conveniently go off to find his princess cape shouting “Is it ready? Is it ? Is it? “ Then screams as O puts the final piece in , just as he gets there.
Penguin game: (The idea is to flip your penguin onto the vibrating igloo) It is only ever O’s go.
Peppa Pig Snakes and Ladders : F decides how many spaces you can move (regardless of dice) and where you can go. Even if you are one square from home, you will most likely be sent back to number one because “I was one when I was little”
All of these games are accompanied by dulcet screeches of “I’m the winner, No I’m the winner!” Then tears and hysteria “He said he’s the winner, but I’m the winner…. “
In short, as much as the idea of sitting down to play games is one I envisaged romantically when they were about a day old, the reality is the noisier and faster and more running aroundness (preferably just in pants and wearing a crown) the better. Yesterday they were entertained for a record 27 minutes by “Run from the Dragon”. This highly innovative game was thought up by a desperately shattered teetering on the edge me, you need two children, a scooter and a go carty thing stolen , borrowed from the neighbour. Children hurtle round garden and I lob , gently throw an inflatable dragon in their flight path. Crashing into it and when it hits your brother´s (not your) head is apparently the most hilarious thing ever. They couldn’t get enough, until O ran over F’s toes and then drove into the clothes horse. The game had come to a natural end. Or so I thought, until twenty seconds later, while I was making chocolate milk for the screaming injured, I was met by two (plastic) sword wielding boys wailing “I’m the winner” “NO, I’m the winner!, you’re the LOSER!”
Anybody got a 50,000 piece puzzle I can borrow?