“Chimmie, will you play a game of Candy Land with me?”
“Yes, honey–just let me finish up a few things here in the kitchen. You set up the board and I’ll be there in a few moments.”
With that, Patty scampered to the toy room, returned with the boxed game and proceeded to spread out the board.
Under the assumption that there just might be one lonely person in our universe who has never had the fortuitous experience of playing a game of Candy Land with his or her grandchild, I’d like to take a few moments to explain the game:
The board is laid out on a kitchen table, (or equivalent.) Imprinted on its surface is a circuitous snake-like route consisting of colorful squares which often have pictures of lollipops, hot-fudge sundaes, candy canes, and chocolate bars. Occasionally, there are haunting images of witches and all things evil.
Throughout the route, there are many instructions such as: “go forward three spaces to the maple syrup fountain”, or “go back five spaces to the crone with the wart on her nose.”
There is a stack of little cardboard squares with similar colors and images from which you ‘draw’, and then move your ‘trinket’ to the corresponding space. The object of the game, of course, is to see who crosses the finish line first. Because of the pitfalls and rewards, a game can sometimes end in a few minutes; however, I once played a game that lasted so long, my underarm deodorant needed refreshing.
“Chimmie, I’m going to let you go first.”
The next few minutes were an eye-opening, mind-blowing observation. My angelic toddler who could do no wrong in this grandmother’s eyes, had overnight become a four-year old embezzling, corrupt, dishonest cheat!
I watched her manipulate those cards like she was an experienced Black Jack dealer in Vegas. A bag of candy for her, a swamp for me, a sweet treat for her, the black forest and snakes for me. I waited an agonizing amount of time and then STRUCK!
“You know, Patty, you are so dear to me, I think I’d really, really like you to go first. Your generosity in asking me to go first is sweet, but you’re younger, and so it’s only fitting that you draw before me. I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I just want to put some dishes in the dishwasher.”
“Oh, Chimmie, I really think you should go first.”
“No, babe, I INSIST!”
“Well, (dejectedly,) all right.”
I watched as she maneuvered the cards once more with unbelievable dexterity for such pint-sized fingers. The exacting procedure took another ten minutes.
I STRUCK AGAIN! “You know, Patty, perhaps I should go first after all, since you were so kind to think of me, and so unselfish.”
With that, she flung the cards across the room, slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand–THWACK–flopped her head onto the table, and in utter exasperation sighed, “OH MAN!”
Jan Chapman
November, 2012
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