But I'd get so excited about it.
I'd get the game all set up;
Choose my piece:
The shoe of course,
For some reason it seemed to be my favorite.
I'd beg my mom to play with us,
My brother and me.
Sometimes she would, sometimes she wouldn't.
Then finally the game would begin.
Immediately I would hate it.
I would beg to quit.
I would yell because I wasn't the banker.
I would cry because Jason had more streets than me.
Or railroads.
Then it would happen.
It was always inevitable.
I would roll a double.
I'd roll again.
Another double.
Jason would laugh.
I would glare.
Third roll.
Third double.
I'd be in jail.
He would laugh more.
I would walk away, only to get persuaded into coming back.
We would continue to play.
I would play nice.
Act civil.
Smile.
Then he would land on Park Place and Boardwalk.
I would scream, yell, kick.
Make a horrible scene.
He would laugh more.
Brothers.
Then he'd put hotels on his places.
And I would inevitably lose all my money to him.
But before it was all gone
I would storm out of the room.
I would never give him the satisfaction
Of being the winner.
I couldn't.
If he won, I losy.
And I did not lose.
It wasn't in me to lose.
That's what started it;
My dislike of board games.
Simple competition with my brother.