Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Words With . . .

My husband. NOT my friends. Oh no, it's not me playing Words With Friends. It's my husband. On.my.phone.

A week ago I started one game on WWF. It quickly became two. Or fifteen. Whatever. I was having fun. I was spelling great words like 'Pot' and 'hot' and an occasional 'arrow' thrown in for some real points. My brain activity was totally punched up a notch. And yes, I was losing, horribly, at all games. But I was having fun.

So my husband says, "What are you doing over there, concentrating so hard?" And I tell him. He literally laughed. And said, "How dumb. Let me see."

He looked at the board. His eyes went wide and lit up like a Christmas tree. He giggled with glee and said, "It's Scrabble. It's just . . . Scrabble."

The holy grail of all games in his family.

He sat down, my phone in his hand. And began to giggle like a little girl who has just found out a boy likes her. Really.

And I haven't played a game since.

Oh, I've tried mind you. But how do I compete with words like 'quon' that he played for 125 points? I played 'quiver' for 58 and did a little dance.

I've had to post on FaceBook that it is not me crushing all of my friends. Because as I said, I don't even know what a quon is. Or how to use it. If it's something you use. (spell check doesn't even recognize it!)

So here's how my evenings go these days:

My husband walks in the door. He is greeted, as always, by cries of great delight from the children. He yells back and they all glow. I eye him and wonder just how long it will take.

He kisses me hello. We eat dinner.

He begins to get twitchy and starts roaming the kitchen/living room/hallway. He's looking for my phone.  He finds it and laughs maniacally.

He sits down and says, "Let the games begin! Mwaahhahaha!"

And he's down for the night.

Yes, he has a phone of his own. A Crackberry. No he won't get his own account. I've tried that angle. I've now resorted to threatening to take away my phone if he doesn't occassionally let me tweet or isn't nice to me. It sometimes works.

Until he gets his own account? It's not me totally crushing you. Or at least giving you a run for you money. I like to add 's' to the end of a word. Or throw and 'ed' on the end for something really spicey.