Yesterday I played approximately one hundred and forty games of Hi Ho! Cherry-O with my daughter. So. Many. Cherries.
And listen: I say this as an enthusiastic lover of board games. I absolutely love board games: Trivial Pursuit, Pictionary, Scattergories, chess, checkers, mancala, Scrabble, Monopoly, Clue, you name it. I am competitive and enthusiastic and GAME, especially if the game involves extensive knowledge of presidential trivia or extremely obscure D-list actresses or being able to name sandwich toppings that start with "V" (Vlokken, by the way. Just FYI.). When it comes to games, I AM YOUR GIRL. People, I will even patiently play Candyland with small children, and I think we can all agree that CandyLand is no barn-burner.
But, holy sweet pigs in a blanket, this is one excruciatingly boring board game.
Though it's hard to be cranky about it when certain other people are so clearly enthralled. And, coming from a family that frequently rebuffs my own board game advances, I want to be supportive. If you're not familiar with the nonstop-thrill-ride that is Hi Ho! Cherry-O it goes like this:
Spin the dial...
...which determines how many cherries you remove from your tree...
...and then remove the cherries from your tree and put them in your bucket.
Lather, rinse, repeat until numb and listless. First one to empty their tree wins, but understand I am using "wins" in the absolute loosest sense. There are certainly no winners in Hi Ho! Cherry-O. There are, sadly, not even cheaters in Hi Ho! Cherry-O, which is a shame because certain sneaky adults can't hustle the game along.
But Ellie loves it, can't get enough of it, and is probably wondering right now when the next game of Hi Ho! Cherry-O will happen. She knows this for sure: it can' t possibly be soon enough.
Also, I think it makes her hungry.
But after our one hundred and thirty-ninth round, something awful dawned on me. This feeling I was having? That odd cocktail of restlessness and boredom and very slight desperation and ohjustputthecherriesinthebucket?
I'm afraid it is the precise feeling that Byron and Croptop Dickie have every time I beg, cajole, and force them through another Trivial Pursuit death march. ("C'mon! It's so FUN and you're so GOOD at it. Don't you remember? How much FUN we had last time? Look: little pieces of pie!") I am their preschooler, desperately clutching her box of Hi Ho! Cherry-O, wild-eyed and hopeful, begging for a little bit of their time and attention. This, my friends, is a sobering realization.
Sadly, the realization doesn't make Hi Ho! Cherry-O any more stimulating so, in an effort to keep up, I'm exploring alternative energy sources.
It's for the best. Unlike some people, he never cheats.