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Hello, H-A-N-G-M-A-N

Three weeks ago we started winding down the evening with a family game.  Like UNO.  Or Candyland.  Or Kid Charades.

Only by the third night our kids had sprung into their pajamas in fourteen seconds and were waiting with Blokus dumped out on the living room floor.  Game time was suddenly a habit.

Last night was no different.  Except for Hangman.

Which may not sound like such a rip-roaring time because…

it’s not.

But if you’re four and your dad’s on your team, or you’re seven and you’re playing with your mom, well then, the perspective’s different, and suddenly Hangman’s a blast.

Let’s see…I think we’ll guess an ‘O’.

What I didn’t expect is how much ownership our son would take in the game.  There have been game night’s where he has pranced around the living room, jumped off the couch, left for a drink of water, tackled his sister or flopped around like a fish on land.

Other than tackling his sister, he did none of that.

He took turns guessing letters; he consulted with his dad…

and after my daughter and I guessed the final ‘V’  to spell LOVABLE, he positioned the next round of letters.

He was serious about his Hangman.

But really, there wasn’t much about the game our kids didn’t love.

The  buddy-ship.

The independence.

The intensity of guessing a ‘B.’

Hangman.

I’ll be darn.

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