Squirrel Thoughts

I don’t play Apples to Apples often. Whenever Zach and I go to a get-together involving party games, I have to warn the host that if we play it, my husband will literally flip the f*ck out.

This weekend, I went over to some friends’ house for sushi and games, sans-Zach. Of course, one of the first options everyone wanted to play was Apples to Apples, because it’s America’s favorite party game, and what kind of psycho doesn’t like it, anyway?

It’s a damn shame I don’t get to play it more often, because I’m awesome at it. I can use my Jedi mind-trickery to persuade just about anyone to pick just about any combination, no matter how absurd. Even though I was a bit rusty, my green cards quickly piled up, and I was declared the victor. Everyone found this quite touching because of the aforementioned psycho-husband-fun-hater thing.

OK. So it was Apples to Apples Junior. Up to a third of my competitors may or may not have been adorable children.

And it’s possible that at one point, I tricked convinced an 8-year-old girl that she should pick “horrific surprise party.” Because what if you don’t really like surprises and you went to a surprise party and the surprise gave you a heart attack and you DIED? Horrific, indeed.

But I also convinced a grown-ass man to pick “quick hamburger,” which really required me to ramp up my persuasion prowess. It was between that and “horse,” the more logical option, clearly. But if you order one of the most popular options at a McDonald’s drive-thru, what are you going to get? That’s right: a quick hamburger. Booya.

And then I just got damn lucky with my winning card. My friends’ 9-year-old son drew “best” for the green card, and the stars aligned, as I had “Legos” in my hand. I admit, I was sweating bullets as he weighed my card against “bacon.”

I quietly celebrated my victory with an inconspicuous  fist pump and subtle “YESSSSSSSS!” Everyone was truly happy for me.

The 8-year-old, whose four green cards also had her on the verge of victory, seemed only mildly disappointed. I’m pretty sure she didn’t cry herself to sleep. Pretty sure.