I’m in pain. Pain, I tell you.
The cutthroat Cribbage competition is underway. Each family holiday in Yosemite we have such a contest, primarily at the behest of my dad, who taught us to play and loved the game. This is our first return trip since he passed in 2015.
Typically, we go to a thrift store nearby, find the tackiest old golfing or bowling or little league trophy possible, scratch off the details and use a Sharpie to write the year and Family Cribbage Tournament on it somewhere.
Blondie (daughter) treasures her 2013 trophy which has a place of honor on her piano. God knows what it was originally… a spelling bee award? Maybe an AYSO participation trophy. My dad, who adored her, had no small part in that win.
So this year I didn’t do the Goodwill circuit in search of the prize… instead I went to the local convenience store and bought a mug with their logo on it. I figure I’ll use permanent paint to write the winner’s name & date on it then at the next tournament we’ll add the next winner and the mug can eventually resemble a ceramic Stanley Cup.
So my evil plan was to get everyone schnockered and take the crown… or cheapo mug.
I beat everyone even without alcoholic assistance, but since it’s double elimination I have to wait and play the final after all these other games are played.
They might be a little tipsy but no one is actually blasted. Me, on the other hand… 9 pm is primo sleeping time. Damn me it took them FOREVER to play the loser rounds to get to the final event.
It’s now 8:30 pm on Blondie’s last evening and I’m fading fast. Abby is unconscious and I’ve just learned that noooooo, the winner of the current match between Beloved and Blondie’s boyfriend actually has to play Blondie…THEN I am on to play.
Everyone else happily stays up until the wee hours but me… damn, I’m a big believer in celebrating New Years with our Icelandic brethren.
Unnngh.
8:45pm and Beloved is about to play Blondie. Please GOD Beloved wins because Blondie is leaving first thing tomorrow and if SHE wins, I gotta perform tonight. Beloved’s coming home with me and we can play whenever. Blondie suggested I forfeit due to lack of consciousness. Never.
Ten past nine and Beloved triumphed! Off to bed.
ExaminingMisadventures 