My son assured me it was not a “pity” game. He took up the gauntlet and challenged me to a Scrabble game on his only free night this week. What ensued was a collaborative poem after the fun. It is to be read as a script, with “R” as me, and “B” as he. We took turns issuing the “finish-the-rhyme” challenge. It was pretty short-lived.
R: I’m going to place my “Q” right here.
B: Time to grab another beer.
If I could only draw an “E.”
R: Please do before you have to pee!
My word is only 20 points.
B: I can feel victory in my joints.
If only this board weren’t so darn crowded!
R: Are you trying to keep your talent shrouded?
B: In the end it’s just a game.
R: and I won – just the same.
Look for more Nobel-award-winning works.
There you go Rene! Winning all the games; remember beating Bill, and his chagrin! J