We've been playing games around here lately because William has been on a game kick. He loves playing games. I've even made up a behavior chart for him where he can collect stickers for good behavior and redeem them for treats. He loves it. He makes everything a game. From the moment he hears Andy opening the door at night, he takes off to go hide somewhere so his Daddy can come find him. Then as we're eating dinner, William is giving a bite by bite commentary on who is winning the clean plate race (usually it's me....which is why I'll NEVER lose this last 10+ pounds). Then after dinner he picks out a game to play after his bath and before bed. Last night it was the Spiderman game. But it turned ugly. Real ugly.
Andy and William were sprawled out in the floor of William's room playing this little Spiderman game. Let me explain how it works: There are all these little super hero game pieces that go under little cups. It's a matching and memory game. You pick up two cups and hope you get the two pieces that go together, but if you don't, you put the cups back down and try to remember where they were in case you get a matching piece the next time. I thought to myself....how sweet...some father/son bonding time. Until I started hearing trash talk. Maybe I should say, one sided trash talk.
I heard a little chant going on...."Who's gonna win....DADDY. Who's gonna win....DADDY." Then I heard William's little voice saying "Don't say that!" Then more of the chant. Then..."HEY...That's not fair! You're cheating!!!" Andy was calling my baby a cheater! Then I heard..."I'm not playing with you anymore. You cheat!" And Andy came barreling out of William's room!
Later I guess they made up, because when I went in William's room to kiss him goodnight, Andy was lying next to him to say prayers, etc. William looked up at me and said "I cried tonight when I played the Spiderman game. But I'm ok now." I just glared at the perpetrator. He tried to explain that William wasn't playing fair. I still glared. He tried to say he was trying to teach him how to play right. I glared. I said simply, looking back and forth between the two of them, "35. 4. 35. 4." I shook my head and walked out.
I've since checked the age specs on that game. It says 3 and over. Guess it should say 34 and under. And I guess I'll be refereeing tonight. Sheesh.