JIGS

We often pulled out our classic Scrabble box on rainy Saturdays or summer evenings, playing with one another and with Mom.  Like most, we argued over “real” words, consulted Merriam Webster, and guarded our tiles against spying eyes when someone popped up to grab another Tab.

I’m sure you think I am heading toward a story about Words With Friends, and I am, but there is a family twist.

These days, we play with one another…and with Dad.

Now, Dad never played Scrabble.  Dad was not one to play board games with the kiddos – if only because he worked full time for the Edison and then ran a side business as a land surveyor, measuring every weekend and drawing plans every weeknight.

Three of us (come on, Kathy, join the fun!) have had multiple games running with Dad for a few years now.  His lack of experience with the game was evident in the early days of Dad-Daughter WWF play.  Like the bloodthirsty competitors we are, we racked up points and thanked him for letting us win.  Of course, he wasn’t letting us win.  He was learning the game.

Fast forward to today.  We play on our phones, and Dad plays on his iPad.  He has a worn paperback copy of Webster’s as his ankle.  And he is giving us a run for our money.

 

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