There are certain things in life that we initially dread but end up enjoying once we give them a chance. Whether it's attending a holiday party, going to a theatrical performance, or stepping on the treadmill, these activities often turn out better than expected. For many families, this sentiment perfectly captures the experience of hearing those fateful words during a long-awaited holiday weekend: "How about a board game?"
The Graham household boasts what can only be described as a designated board game closet containing an impressive collection of roughly 24,000 games. The inventory includes classics like Risk, Boggle, Jenga, and Battleship in both vintage and new versions, alongside modern favorites such as Uno, Exploding Kittens, Imploding Kittens, Mysterium, Blokus, Password, and Poetry for Neanderthals. Each game represents a Christmas or birthday gift, a nostalgic memory from youth, or a purchase made during those precious days off during holidays or the homebound stretches of the global pandemic.
These games were acquired during periods when the family either didn't yet have children or experienced those glorious days of actual time off during holidays. The spouse would spend hours researching topics like "best board games for resistant board game players" and secretly purchase whatever recommendations appeared in the results. He would then retrieve these treasures from the depths of the game closet with such euphoria that it took about 30 years of marriage for his partner to finally crush that joy with the simple declaration that no, she did not care to play Goat Lords at that moment or at any point in the foreseeable future.
The family dynamics around game night reveal distinct personality types. There are fundamentally two kinds of people in the world: those who experience joy and embrace life, and those who instantly extinguish that joy with their complete contempt for the phrase "game night." The eldest offspring shares similar genetic predispositions toward game aversion. However, instead of bonding over this shared fight-or-flight response to the rattling of Boggle dice, she channels her card-dealing repulsion into a level of competitiveness that would intimidate even the most determined athletes.
A simple game of Bananagrams, a word-building tile game that should theoretically favor a weekly arts magazine editor, transforms into an exercise in suppressing murderous tendencies. Within mere seconds, the young competitor erupts with her triumphant "BANANAS!" victory shout, leaving her parent questioning decades of vocabulary building. Her fiancé, a mild-mannered chef-turned-first-year law student, shares the spouse's enthusiasm for board games but gravitates toward options with such complicated instructions and strategies that they practically require a law degree plus 14 hours of reading and another six hours of explanations.
The complexity of these games creates additional challenges for the family group, who often begin even the simplest games with heated arguments over token selection, particularly the coveted race car piece, which is universally acknowledged as the superior choice. The instruction-averse family members inevitably pick up none of the complicated rules and therefore lose in thoroughly humiliating fashion, adding insult to injury in an already challenging situation.
Despite the initial resistance and competitive tensions, something magical happens once the family settles down for post-feast pie and relaxation. It's during these moments that meaningful glances are exchanged, accompanied by that familiar come-hither smile that asks, "Who's down for Scattergories?" After the board game prodigy child has thoroughly defeated everyone with the certainty of a Venus Williams grand slam, and the last traces of whipped cream have been scraped from dessert plates, a reluctant acceptance sets in.
This acceptance extends beyond mere resignation to defeat and encompasses gratitude for the entire experience. Even when tryptophan-addled brains struggle to process the 47-step instructions for The Settlers of Catan, there's a genuine appreciation for this quirky collection of game enthusiasts. The realization dawns that despite the competitive chaos, complicated rules, and inevitable defeats, these shared moments create lasting memories and strengthen family bonds in unexpected ways. In the end, every minute spent with this delightful gaggle of game players becomes a cherished part of the holiday tradition.
