When exactly did I go from losing to my soon to be 5-year old, who is a genius by the way, on purpose to getting my butt swiftly and unexpectedly kicked?
We were recently playing a game of ConnectFour, and I was trying to win. I really was. I thought it was time that he learned that he can't win every game and that he has to learn the graceful art of losing and being a good sport about it.
The game was progressing pretty quickly. I knew that he wasn't paying close attention, just quickly putting his pieces in and not really watching my strategy. It was my turn, and I raised my piece to block him from getting four in a row.
Luke: I hate to tell you this Mom, but I'm going to win no matter what you do.
Me, noticing with stunned horror that he had not one, not two, but three different ways to win: Are you kidding me? You have three ways to win?
Jack, coming over to confirm my inadequacy: Where? Yep, he sure does. I've never had three ways to win before.
Me: Well, I've never had three ways to lose before.
Luke: Let's play Sequence. It's not so easy to beat you at that.
And here I thought I was teaching him a lesson in how to play games.
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