hell. handbasket. let us not discuss the doom of baskin robbins.
yes yes, i admit, i was WEAK!
…which reminds me of some years ago when my family were sitting around the table Christmas night playing Spoons, a card game where the idea is to get 4 of a kind while passing cards as fast as possible and not holding more than 5 in your hand at once. There are 1 fewer spoons on the table than there are players, and you’re supposed to take a spoon when you get 4 of a kind. Then you either frantically seize a spoon, or sneakily seize one and continue playing until someone notices a spoon is missing, at which point there’s usually a mad bloody leap for the remaining spoons. The key word here is “bloody”; rings must be taken off before playing this game, and it’s best if nobody has fingernails worth mentioning.
So we were playing Spoons, my parents and sister and I. Someone–Dad, I think–got 4 of a kind, and took a spoon. No one noticed, and then Mom noticed, leaving one spoon left for Deirdre and me.
We lunged for it. It spun out of control, whipping toward the end of the table. And then it was airborne, and so was I, *flinging* myself in a literal bellyflop across the table, reaching, reaching, reaching–
–and Deirdre *threw* herself across Dad’s lap, snatching the spoon from the very jaws of my victory! She thrust her hand into the air, brandishing the spoon triumphantly, and sounded her cheer of domination!
Crushed, I collapsed back into my chair and said, in bitter disappointment, “I was weak!”
It pretty much reduced us all to tears of hysterical laughter, and we still occasionally say, “I was *weak*!” when we’ve gone to great effort for no avail. :)
Going to bed now that I’ve given myself a good giggle. :)
Oh, but first, congratulations to Merlin, who won Jenn’s auction! Awesome!
miles to Mount DOOOOOM: 136
Spoons is a wonderful game, if the card-playing equivalent of rugby. ;) I’ve gotten more injured playing spoons than most sports!
OMG…I’m laughing so hard I’m cryyyyying over here! I’m catching up on all your Sept. bloggings, and you’ve got me doubled over with laughter with all these delectable food cravings/urges. It’s like something straight out of Invader Zim! Awesome. Dare I read on? But I must. Perhaps the Doom That is Baskin Robbins missive is just the beginning of some larger Moussey Fate. ;)