Monopoly ruins lives. Go Fish creates distrust. Poker forges debt. The scars of Family Game Night last for years. A night that is supposed to bring everyone closer together, drives everyone apart. We just happen to end up playing over and over and over again. It's the same story every time you play, yet you're still shocked when the family crumbles.
1. The Idea
Someone sees the game on a top shelf. Tucked away and forgotten in the back closet, the old nemesis sits. Maybe the person who suggest it is a new addition to the family. Or they're the reigning champ who feels confident enough to risk their title. No matter how it happens, someone always says "Let's all play ____!" The groans, eye-rolling, and scowls ensue. There's a little resistance, but it never overcomes the persistent call for "Family Bonding." You all gather around a table, and the game begins!
2. Reading Instructions
You sit down thinking "Maybe this time will be different! We could actually have fun and create memories like they advertise in Hasbro commercials." Then some B who's escaped Apartment 23 grabs the instructions, all official like they're the rules police. (If that B is reading this, it's no secret the other players hate you. Sometimes life does not need structure, and rules were meant to be broken.) Everything suddenly needs to be by the book, and the book is huge! Everyone really starts out listening, buying into the idea that this game will be different, but the Rules Reader drones on and on. Everything gets complicated, and you realize you can't calculate the interest of a mortgage you may have to pay off or remember if you don't want the Queen of Spades or Clubs. You look over and see your Grandpa has poured himself a second glass of wine and you cheers across the table. When you lean over to comment on his great idea, B rips your head off for not paying attention. You're over this game before it even starts.
3. The First Round
Everyone is trying to put the strict, confusing laws into practice. Everyone asks questions and very little play is actually done. But then you start to get the hang of it. You could really get this. The shade being thrown at you for doing something wrong because "you didn't pay attention" is brushed off, because you really could win this one! Except for a few more repeated questions, the game starts to take shape.
4. The Peak of Play
Peak of play is really the first few rounds of the game. It's the point where everyone gets the rules, plays them well, the winner is still a toss up, and there's harmony and tranquillity within the family. Maybe this should be an annual thing? You smile at your brother sitting next to you. Really close to you actually. It's a lovely kind of close; a closeness you haven't felt between you in years. Maybe this game can change the whole dynamic! You envision future family reunions with more hugging and less cops. You roll the dice and it brings you to be the front runner! Things are looking...
5. The First Fight
Down goes your cousin's fist on the table. You remember she doesn't understand the feeling of defeat because she's raised under the "Participation Trophy" parenting style. Then her pout starts to form. A few deep sighs of angst are thrown in for good measure, and you brace yourself for the full-on tantrum. She begins to whine about you beating her, and a tear rolls down her cheek. Your aunt brings her onto her lap. Auntie Dearest shoots you a look that implies the dice should never roll so well for you again. Suddenly chaos ensues.
6. The Decline of Love
Accusations of cheating and taking too long during turns rear their ugly head. (Apparently, Grandma literally has an ace hidden up her sleeve.) Everyone wants to end the game more than they want to play it. Except suddenly now Dad is all upset he's not winning, so the family must finish what they started under the pretense of "Commitment." The only thing shorter than responses to each other is the time during turns. Ugh. You keep hitting your brother's elbow. "Give me some dang room to breathe, bro!" Can someone just win already? Suddenly you're on your third – or forth(?) – glass of wine. Who's idea was it to play this dumb game anyway? They should never be allowed to suggest anything ever again.
7. The End of Game (and Relationships)
Curse this day. You decide to sue Hasbro once you get some money to your name. Dad and Uncle begin yelling over a sketchy move (you know they're really fighting about that big unspoken old problem). Mom chimes in about how it's just a game and it's over now, because "Everyone has had enough fun for the night." You toast your glass to her for saving you. Everyone vows Family Game Night will never happen again. You laugh because oddly enough, this is how memories we will tell our children are made. The night is ultimately deemed a success because no police came on a Domestic Disturbance call. All is well, and you know this hate won't last...forever. That Carbarnet was the real MVP, though.
