life lessons.

Chooch sometimes tries to get us to be “a normal family.” Like he thinks that by ironically referring to us as “Ma” and “Pa,” I’m going to suddenly know how to cook and Henry’s going to slap on a baseball mitt and suggest a rousing game of catch before “supper.”

But then I’m like “Well then you’re going to have to start speaking appropriately and not like you’re halfway to perfecting the Aristocrats.” NORMAL FAMILIES LIVE ON TWO-WAY STREETS.

(I grew up on a dead-end private lane that was only room enough for one car to drive down at a time so if another car was coming, they’d have to pull into someone’s driveway to let you pass. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere for my stubborn, bulldozing family.)

But sometimes, in between stupid animal masked photo shoots and spastic road trips, I’ll throw the poor kid a bone. So I promised him that we would play Life when I came home from work last night because he played it with his twin girlfriends (TWINS) and is obsessed with it.

(Or obsessed with the fact that he played it with TWINS!)

I FINALLY GOT MARRIED!

It’s been YEARS since I played Life and it seemed A LOT different and more complicated  than I remember. This may be because I was relying on Chooch’s wishy-washy instructions.  The career I blindly chose was TECH SUPPORT and I was so angry because I did something similar to that for awhile and wanted to die the whole time. And I definitely did not get that much money for it, either. However, Henry’s career was “Artist” and he made much less than my tech support gig.

I don’t think Tech Support was a career the last time I played this. New Life sucks. I want the old one back.

Chooch kept losing turns and having to pay bullshit fines and was so angry about it. He started to cry at one point but tried to play it off. But,  we have similar gaming tempers so I knew that his tears actually meant that there was a fiery fury being stoked with the Devil’s poker, so what did I do? I discreetly cheated until I won, bitches!

People cheat. That’s life. There’s your lesson, son.