Musings about life in the Pigeon household

Game Night at the Pigeon Coop


I’m downstairs, waiting for it.

Upstairs, hubby is playing Monopoly with two of the boys.

He phoned me while I was at work today, ‘honey, Monopoly is at Wal-Mart!’

‘Really?’ I say… wow. When in the world did Wal-Mart acquire Monopoly? Whatever gods Wal-Mart had to appease to pull that one out of thin air, it was worth it as it is such a rare and new game. So hard to come by.

It definitely made hubby’s day anyway.

Best part? $18.


I however, was not as thrilled.

I personally do not like Monopoly.

Of course, according to hubby, I don’t like a lot of fun things.

Like card games.

I’d rather dig my own liver out with a dull spoon, thanks.

Wrestling with the children?

I think I need to pay some bills.


Didn’t I need to get a root canal or something?

Right now I’m hiding downstairs.

My game-time with the youngest boy is over.

We played “Guess Who”.

It was purchased the same time as Monopoly. Now this I can get excited about.

No counting, no math, no heavy thinking.

Just fun.

We played three rounds and were done before hubby doled out everyone’s money for Monopoly.


And I know they’re all in a great mood now, but they’re all on borrowed time.

I can almost begin the countdown. Not that I mean to sound too negative or anything, but I can sense it.

Like boy farts.

You don’t always hear them, but they linger in the air.

And linger.

Sometimes for days.



Back to my countdown… 3… 2… 1…

“Stop it, noooooooooooooooooo! That’s not how you play!”

“That’s my card! Illinois Avenue is mine!”

“You owe me money! You owe me another ten dollars!”

And I can hear hubby quietly telling them to calm down, soothingly calling their names and patiently trying to salvage the game.

“I said STOP IT!”

“You’re cheating!”

And then the slapping starts.

And then a dice goes zinging past someone’s head…

Then I hear the banging of the game board as it is folded back up into its box and everyone is sent away from the table and to their respective corners…

Of course none of this has happened yet.

But I have no doubt in my mind that we’re living on the brink here.

Like last night for instance. The boys were begging and pleading for Dad to wrestle them.

And he kept putting them off and putting them off.

Can’t say I blame him, because it always ends up the same way.

Everyone is having fun, getting exercise, trying out their moves.

And then they get a little too carried away. A little too rough.

Dad ends up in traction with Robaxacet at the ready and a glass of wine in hand while someone is crying themselves to sleep. Sometimes that’s Dad too.

Like last night.

They decided they would wrestle.

I myself made like a banana and split. That’s right; I’d rather sort laundry… on a whole other level of my house… than have to witness the carnage.

About ten minutes into the game, I heard someone crying. The youngest.

And I heard hubby telling the middle boy that he shouldn’t ‘jump on his face with your knees.’

That’s when I knew to crack open the new box of wine and fill a big fish-bowl sized glass… for myself.

Then I filled one for hubby.

So the youngest has a big red gash on his cheek. It looks like rug burn, but it is actually from my other sons’ pants. Lovely.

Think the teachers bought that story?

So much for the family Christmas pictures.

I think partly it is because they’re boys.

And I think a lot of the time having three in the mix really stirs things up. It is an uneven number and someone is always left out and someone is always on the fringe. It isn’t always the same person, but whoever it ends up being, tries their darndest to get back in the game and will do anything – an-y-thing to get everyone else’s attention and get involved again.

Kinda like right now. The youngest just finished his bath and headed upstairs and I can hear him trying to wrangle his way into the game.

And I can hear echoes of, ‘put it down… put it down…’

Oh well. I’m just gonna hide out in my basement until bedtime and keep my fingers crossed that things run smoothly for hubby.

With any luck my wine will last until they’re all asleep.


Update – it is the next evening and I just wanted to say, all ended well. Everyone played nicely, and according to hubby, they learned some negotiating and math skills!

Of course tonight is another matter. The two youngest are in their rooms for mouthing off and talking back. Early bedtimes all around.

But Monopoly is one of their favourite games! I’ll just take comfort in that little tidbit…


2 thoughts on “Game Night at the Pigeon Coop

  1. Love it!! Reminds me of my childhood when my brothers & Dad used to wrestle EVERY NIGHT after dinner until someone cried…made myself as scarce as possible! ;0)

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