I love playing games. Card, board, dice... just about any game. I do, however, hate playing any game with my husband.
Friday night Matt played dominoes with Shannon and I. As usual he won after lots of moaning and complaining that it was all about "luck" and not skill. Then last night he creamed me at rummy. I hate when he wins because he does the "Matt victory dance". You know, sort of a cross between the fire hydrant and jerk dance moves from the 70s. No matter what we play, somehow he manages to win. Even games that he shouldn't. Take Scrabble. Matt cannot spell his way out of a paper bag, yet somehow he throws letters down on the board in a combination that always seems to be found in the dictionary when I challenge him. And the one game that I can beat him at, Yahtzee, has somehow magically disappeared in the move.
Now having said all that, I somehow always put a game on my Christmas list. I guess I like torture, or maybe I just like seeing Matt do his victory dance.