LIFE ... Is Just A Game

LIFE always seems to make my children cry.

No, not real life, but the Milton Bradley® classic board game: LIFE

Today's version is much different from the one we all grew up with. You're not stuck in a career you hate because you spun a "6" instead of a "5" at the start, you're no longer forced to buy a house even though you have $15,000 to your name, and you don't even get money for each child when you retire. Sure, you still get to put the little pink and blue "people" in the back of your plastic station wagon, but the novelty wears off fast, and since there's no monetary value the "kids" are more props than objects of affection. Back in the day, adding another child to your car was like winning the lottery — once you hit the last turn on the game board toward Sunny Meadows you knew $10,000 was coming for each one of them.

Needless to say, I'm not a fan of the new rules. I guess in an attempt to make it more "authentic" they added all kinds of choices for players to make – career paths, house styles, stock options, salary increases – you know... things that never happen in the real world. So, I chose to interject some of the old rules to make the game more fun, and to give my kids a little dose of "reality."

However, the thing I hate the most about the new version is the rickety old spinner. It fits very loosely on the base { At first I thought it was broken } and frequently comes off or gets stuck. Of course, this plays right into Carson's favorite career choice: Tech Support. Not only does the person with that career earn a decent salary, they also get $50,000 from the bank each time the spinner gets stuck or comes off the track. { I'm no computer dork, but I don't even think Tech Support at CTU or the mafia makes close to that much. } So when someone makes a bad spin – and believe me, it's often – he does his maniacal rich person laugh and demands payment.

If Carson doesn't get the tech support job he almost always complains { sometimes cries } the whole game since he's "stuck" in a career that in his mind is way down on the food chain.

"I don't want to be a teacher – my salary is bad."
"Accountant!? That is so boring."
"I only want to be the doctor if I make $100,000."

We had a major family crisis one time when Carson chose Tech Support over the Physician occupation and I started giving him static.

"Carson, you went to college, why wouldn't you want to be a doctor? Look! Your salary is $80,000."
"Because Dad! Just let me be Tech Support. It's my favorite job."
"Yeah, but it's going to be very hard to win with that salary."

Of course, he then runs into his grandma's room and cries. She goes in after Carson to console him.

"Carson, what's the matter?"
"M-m-my Dad won't let me be T-t-tech Support and says all I can be is a doctor. H-h-he got to be a designer and we have everything we need in our life. I j-j-just want to be what I w-w-want to be."

Ugh. Drama.

And, to make me feel even worse he wins the game. { thanks to that ghetto spinner }

Kaiya, on the other hand, always wants to be the artist, and just like her dad of the same profession, she always ends up with the least amount of cash. Also, she'll only take her salary in denominations of $20,000 since those bills are her favorite color. "I want the pink money!"

The only thing she loves more than the pink money are the pink people. Whenever she "earns" a child in the game it's always a daughter - because they're pink - and I swear she would pop a pink piece right next to hers when you get "married" if I didn't tell her that she was going to "marry Prince Charming" and quickly pop a blue piece next to hers in the station wagon.

In fact, she loves the pink people so much that one time she stuck one in her nostril and snorted it up her nose cavity. "Daddy....nose..pink...hurt...owww!" It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but then I looked up her nose, and sure enough, there it was. We tried to get it out, but no luck, so I'm forced to drive her to the ER and spend 3 hours in the waiting room trying to watch the Super Bowl on a 13" TV. { yeah, it was during the Super Bowl }

24 hours later and $600 shorter we finally got the piece out.

No worries, though, I just use the whole experience to teach a valuable lesson to Carson:

Be a doctor.