The following is a transcript recorded by my in-home recording device (AKA my brain) on Monday, January 7, 2012, in which my eight-year-old son, Franz, kills me in Monopoly. This excerpt occurs about an hour into the game, when the concerned parties have purchased most of the board’s property.
ME Ah ha! I’ve landed on Boardwalk! Aw, yeah! Aw, yeah! And I already have Park Place! I’m gonna buy me some houses and hotels and…Soooo…
(I look at my stack of money. I have three 1s and a 5.)
ME Uhm…how much is it? $400?
(FRANZ notices my stack of money.)
Aw, yeah! Aw, yeah! You’re in the poorhouse, Ma! You’re bankrupt. Say it! Say it! Say “I’m on the low end!”
You’re on the low end! The LOW END! You spent all your money! You got nothin’. You always go bankrupt! You’re always on the low end. Hahahahah!
ME Fine. I’m on the low end. But…boy…I’m movin’ on up…to the east side…
To a deluxe apartment in the sky…
(Then Kealoha and I started clapping and singing the Jefferson song while Franz did a jig. We recovered after a while. Maybe after too long a while.)
ME Okay. I’d admit it. I’m on the low end. I’d have to mortgage all my properties to buy Boardwalk.
(It occurred to me that maybe this would be a Teachable Moment.)
ME Let that be a lesson to you, boy.
(I’m such a good mom.)
Whatever. It’s my turn.