F is for
April 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
We started playing cards with CJ. Scat…. or thirty-one. Anyway I had 29, watched my last 10 get buried so I knock. CJ lost and he says “Why did you have to knock?”
“I wasn’t going to get my scat, all my 10s were gone.”
“So, the game isn’t all about you, you know.” I could not help but laugh. CJ is a very poor loser. I never let him win. I never have. I find it demeaning to the other person to let them win. Like implying they can never compete. And they surely never learn that way.
So later CJ says “I know Morris code.”
“Morse code” I corrected him, “Not Morris. Morse, after Samuel Morse.”
“Well I know it.” he then proceeded to tap away.
“You know that is not Morse code. You use Morse code to transmit a message, it is not just random dits and dahs.”
“It was a message.”
“Really, and what was it supposed to say?”
“That big brothers think they know EVERYTHING.”
Damn, he’s becoming a teenager alright. I’ve been put in my place.