Winners Only
Yep, I am a winner.
It helped having a little sister who always pulled the Old Maid from my deck.
Winning is genetic.
My little son, also a winner.
He knows how to stack his deck just right
His little brother never questioning,
Why haven't I ever won a game of Magic Cards?
Terra Stomper falls precisely in his opponents hands on the second play, every game.
Without a flinch, wink, or grimace big brother shuffles.
Little brother admits to me, "I think we are going to lose this one"
All the powerful mauna are already laid out in front of Big Brother
Monopoly, Chess, Magic Cards, their all the same.
My eldest finds advantage
Being ahead
Being the winner
Hmmmm...........
Where did this come from?
Not from me, not from my husband.
Running races, celebrating medals and trophies.
Score! Take a shot!
The old couple asking:
"Did you win?" on a trail, noticing my son's uniform.
No, is the answer.
Why did they assume the answer would be yes?
Or, did they think an answer like 'No' would spark up a juicy conversation?
Well, the answer was no, but no further questions were asked.
Just a smile, maybe there was a remark like "You'll get em next time".
Did they really care?
It probably just felt like the right thing to ask a little boy walking in his soccer jersey with his family on a Sunday stroll down a dirt trail.
Winning matters more than everything!
Everyone knows this!!!!
How can I blame him for stacking his cards up, just right?
For miscounting steps, passing Go, and collecting $200?
Its curious though.
Not this time.
We line up our men: generals, sergeants, colonels, spies, miners.
I have no idea about protecting my flag.
With ease, his Marshal pounces on every one of my high ranking officials.
There goes my flag, effortless defeat for my little warmonger.
Next day, another game.
I am slightly more with it, the game's objective.
This time, I encapsulate my flag by bombs and tuck them into a corner.
He pursues me ruthlessly, his Marshal once again.
Six high rankers fall in six swift paces.
His dominance distracts him, he misses my two moving pieces at the edge.
Oops, I sideswipe one of his generals.
My miner tests out the corner behind him.
A bomb is defused and I take a risk forward with my Marshal.
My little son looks up.
A smile!
Where in the world?
His face is different now. I never noticed it with cheeks and brows turned up so.
How generous, how light!
Willing to accept...., defeat?
Playful, still smiling, point blank, he states "my flag, you won".
Finality, randomness, understanding.
"How did you know?" he asks, interested.
For a few seconds, he listens to my response.
Playing by the rules,
Does it have perks?
This time, he chose to accept chance, and, I wonder, Why?
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