Last night we decided to play cards. We live in the Midwest so the card game of choice is Euchre. But because we only had three people, and because three handed Euchre is no fun, we played another game. Tonk. Or as my sister likes to say: Tonketty Tonk. This is a real game. Yet it has been warped by my Dad and his compadres. There are all sorts of strange rules that we follow religiously. If the first card turned up is a spade you have to yell “It’s a SPAAAAAADE!” and if someone is really kicking butt you have to draw fun ways to kill that person on the scoring pad. It’s all very legitimate. But of course unless there’s money on the table, the only reason to play cards is as a vehicle for goofing off. This we do quite well. We do it so well that I don’t think we’ve ever finished a game of Tonk (unless my Dad is present, because then you WILL keep playing until you are done, even if it is six o’clock in the morning).
We fed the kids dinner first. Because we’re not heathens. And then it was on. This is what the beginning of the card game looked like:
It seemed like such a good idea at the time. So festive. And refreshing.
This is what my kitchen looked like this morning:
So it turns out we are heathens.