He thinks he’s a master, maybe even a genius at this “game.”
But, he can be arrogant as hell about his card-playing prowess, so I fortify myself before he arrives.
Caffeine first. Our time for cards is usually after 3, so I’m already caffeinated out with my three cups of tea. But this is a serious competition, so I bring out the big guns.
I will suffer for this indiscretion.
I will be wide awake at midnight, but if the drug helps me get a leg up, or in this case, a card up, on my foe, it will be worth listening to the clock tick at 2 a.m. . . . . and 2:40 . . . and 3:10.
Next, I search for a sugar hit. Yes! A bowl of leftover peppermint dark chocolates from the holiday. Pure sugar that will keep my brain alert and ready to manipulate the Reverses and Wild Cards so that success will be mine.
Oh no. He’s here. I don’t have time to turn the lights higher in my corner. My eyes need the extra oomph so that I can tell the difference between the Green 2 and the Blue 2.
I don’t care.
I’ve saved the big guns and slowly, ohhhh sooooo slowwwwly put down my
DRAW FOUR card.
He moans, tears springing into his eyes. “The cards love me,” he declares, “not you!”
“UNO!” I reply gleefully to the little 6-year-old card monster, my grandson.
This time, Madre wins.