Game Night with teachers is always an interesting occasion. Game Night that includes three distinct generations of teachers is amusing. Game Night that combines three distinct generations of teachers and several bottles of "Kool-Aid" is hysterical. "I didn't know teachers drank "Kool-Aid," my recently-graduated daughter had whispered to me several years ago as she watched her former elementary teachers file in the door, double-fisting containers of "Kool-Aid." The veil had been lifted. "Only the good ones," I whispered back, before deftly tipping back a "Kool-Aid" bomber.
Were our Game Nights recorded and released to the public, there might be an immediate investigation to verify our certifications as educators. First, we busted out our bunions. Feet were freely disrobed and put on display for sympathetic inspection until a clear winner was determined. Points were awarded to a second big toe that was unable (or maybe just unwilling?) to bend and one braggart described a relative's toe that could rotate 360 degrees but this tall-toe-tale was given the boot.
Prior to actually beginning a game, a time-keeping device had to be chosen. This is, surprisingly, a rather lengthy process. A set of five or more small sand-glasses were lined up and two I-phones were brought out to time their accuracy. Personally, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. I switched to water after this little episode.
We decided on "Time's Up." This is a terrible game that limits your vocabulary and emphasizes the importance of memory and gestures. A teacher's nightmare. What youth lacked in classic movie entertainment and show tunes, they made up for in recall and rock. The span of generations was irrelevant. We were all bad at this game. To survive, we resorted to occasionally questionable and controversial motions. I gave a memorable performance as I laboriously re-enacted mankind's glorious entrance into this world to represent "Born Free." Good luck trying to get your team to guess "Man of La Mancha" without using words. The hand signals used for this one was enough to cause those of us with any decency left to blush. We learned that the tunes to "New York, New York" and "Life is a Cabaret" sound eerily similar when hummed. We moaned when we realized the extent that the arts (and geography apparently) are now being neglected when one of our own mistook "Washington Crossing the Delaware" for the state rather than the man. It is also important to actually know the term that you're communicating as my partner yelled out, It's a movie...about a girl in the hills...she spins..." "Sound of Music," I shouted confidently, confused when she glared at me. Turns out I missed the scene where Scarlett O'Hara dances in circles on top of a mountain in the Alps. It was my turn to glare when my partner couldn't understand when I kept prodding her with my finger. "Pokemon," I snarled. How could she NOT get that?
We learned a lot. A finger-mustache always made someone yell, "Hitler!", pointing to the color black was never helpful, and the gestures for "bird" and "Pac-Man" were interchangeable. It was a silly, fun-filled evening where a group of teachers could spend time together without exchanging educational jargon, offering behavior management tips, or commiserating about work-related issues. It was just a wonderful evening with friends. A passer-by, wandering past the house, would have never guessed that the occupants of the living-room, shrieking with laughter and gesturing madly, were teachers. Game Night is enough to curl your toes...if you could actually bend them, that is.
No comments:
Post a Comment