Of course, I didn't mean to get caught up in the hullabaloo. I never planned for things to get so out of hand.
What began as a friendly game of Hungry Hippo between a father and his daughters turned into a rumpus.
I prefaced the game with a bit of a warning. "Check your competitive edge at the door, cowboy."
He nodded enthusiastically, apparently more than willing to throw the game, allowing the under 5 crowd to take all the glory.
As the game began, at first I thought he was just laying it on a little too thick.
"Give 'em a little fight, honey," I said as I refilled lemonades.
Didn't take me too long to figure out the beads of sweat and the vice grip on his designated hippo weren't for show. My honey couldn't get his game on. He was a rookie and he was getting his hiney handed to him.....in a hurry!
I quickly came to assist.
"It's all in the wrist."
"Don't snap the hippos mouth so quickly. Patience."
"Put your back into it!"
"For crying out loud. They're slaughtering you!!"
I just couldn't stand by watching it anymore.
Pushing him aside, I took the Hungry Hippo helm.
And, that's how we all ended up in the toy aisle at Target.
Apparently, too much vigor can jam a Hungry Hippo and put a bit of a damper on an evening.
Next time, we'll stick with Candyland. Don't think that game should get too sticky.