If you've known me for a long time, then you know that one of the principal failings of my character is that I am somewhat an elitist when it comes to board games. Fortunately, as I've mentioned before, Baby Jack is proof that humans need not commit the moral crimes of their ancestors, and he recently got me playing a fantastic little trivia game called Puke, Pee, or Perspiration?
Like all of the games we play, this one has asymmetrical player roles. Jack, the baby, takes on the role of the Moisture Master. As the Moisture Master, Jack must discreetly secrete some moisture in a manner unobserved by Papa. Upon touching the moisture at a later time, I, as the Guesser, must guess whether the moisture is spit-up (Puke), urine (Pee), or sweat (Perspiration). If I guess right, then I get to change Jack's clothes while he screams. If I guess wrong, then I get to change Jack's clothes while he screams. (This game is more about the journey and the heartwarming bond that forms betwixt Father and Son than it is about the destination.)
Part of what keeps the game fun is that the moisture can take any number of forms: a damp patch on the onesie, a dribble rolling gently into Jack's ear, or (in one dramatic case) a half a centimeter of standing water all along the diaper changing pad. ("Oh my god, Boris, he's soaked," said Mama when I handed her the baby after the latter-most example. "Oh, don't worry," I said confidently, "It's just sweat. There's no way he could have peed so much." I was wrong that time. It was Pee.)
Perhaps you'll think it gauche of me to boast of my victories over an infant whose number of chins is greater than the number of weeks he's been alive, but if any of you out there are playing with your kids and having a hard time staying even, the dominant strategy appears to be to always guess Pee. Jack doesn't even seem to mind so much that I almost always win. I suspect, but would need more evidence to confirm, that Baby Jack just likes peeing on things.
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
Saturday, August 4, 2018
Don't Open the Onesie
Anyone who has known me for a long time will tell you that one of the great failings of my character is my bias against cooperative board games. Fortunately, Baby Jack inherited his Papa's love for gaming without inheriting the accompanying prejudices, and he recently introduced me to a delightful little co-op gem called Don't Open the Onesie.
Like many of the world's great co-op games, this one features asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to utterly fail to open a onesie, a garment designed for infants that is held together by three extremely easy to open metal snaps. Amateurs of the game will focus on utterly failing to open just one of the metal snaps, but with a little practice you will learn to fluidly transition from one snap to the second to the third and back around to the first, utterly failing to open any of them as your blood slowly congeals into a sticky ichor of boiling lava rage.
Jack's role, as the infant wearing the onesie, is to scream like a banshee during the entirety of play. Jack and I are both very good at this game.
One great thing about Don't Open the Onesie is that it takes upwards of only one minute to play, yet that minute, in relative time, feels like a hundred million years. Another virtue of this game is that it can be played anywhere at any time, though for best results I recommend trying it at 4 AM with a onesie that has just been pissed all over. To spice things up you can add a spectator, such as Mama, and invite her to make helpful comments, such as, "Why don't you just open it?", "Oh my god those are so easy to open," and "Do you want me to just open it?"
If you can't get enough of the game, Jack and I heartily recommend the expansion, Don't Close the Onesie.
Like many of the world's great co-op games, this one features asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to utterly fail to open a onesie, a garment designed for infants that is held together by three extremely easy to open metal snaps. Amateurs of the game will focus on utterly failing to open just one of the metal snaps, but with a little practice you will learn to fluidly transition from one snap to the second to the third and back around to the first, utterly failing to open any of them as your blood slowly congeals into a sticky ichor of boiling lava rage.
Jack's role, as the infant wearing the onesie, is to scream like a banshee during the entirety of play. Jack and I are both very good at this game.
One great thing about Don't Open the Onesie is that it takes upwards of only one minute to play, yet that minute, in relative time, feels like a hundred million years. Another virtue of this game is that it can be played anywhere at any time, though for best results I recommend trying it at 4 AM with a onesie that has just been pissed all over. To spice things up you can add a spectator, such as Mama, and invite her to make helpful comments, such as, "Why don't you just open it?", "Oh my god those are so easy to open," and "Do you want me to just open it?"
If you can't get enough of the game, Jack and I heartily recommend the expansion, Don't Close the Onesie.
Thursday, August 2, 2018
Typical Night in the Household: A Play in One Act
[CURTAIN OPENS and we see MAMA on the couch holding BABY. Meanwhile, PAPA is just leaving.
PAPA: All right Mama, do you need anything before I go?
MAMA: No, I'm fine. Have a good class!
[CURTAIN CLOSES]
[A large CLOCK is brought before the curtain. Its minute hand points to 12 and its hour hand points to 6. The minute hand proceeds to make several rotations about the face until the hour hand points to 9, indicating that THREE HOURS have passed.]
[CURTAIN OPENS and we see PAPA arriving upon a scene of beatific idyll: MAMA sits comfortably in bed, propped up by a sea of inviting pillows, peacefully reading something on her iPad, BABY sleeping like an angel upon her busom.]
PAPA (his voice tinged with hope): So, it was a quiet evening?
MAMA: 5 minutes after you left, the baby forgot how to poop and began to fuss uncontrollably. He was inconsolable and began to scream. I fed him because I couldn't do anything else, and he ate even though he wasn't hungry. So he spit up, and he spit up so hard it went through his nose, where some of the milk got stuck, and then he couldn't breathe.
PAPA: Well, how long have you been like this? [gesturing at the current state of things]
MAMA: About 5 minutes.
PAPA (sighing): Another typical night in the household, then.
[CURTAIN CLOSES]
Monday, July 30, 2018
Swaddle Houdini
A lot of you enjoyed my first post about gaming with Baby Jack, so I thought I'd brag some more about Baby's preternatural strategic acumen.
Lately we've been having tons of fun with an old classic, Swaddle Houdini. This is another game with asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to swaddle the baby. Jack's role, as a person who if left to his own devices would die in about a day, is to wriggle free of the swaddle, shove all his fingers in his mouth three at a time, then punch himself in the face with one hand while clawing his eyes out with the other.
Jack won handily each time we played, and I was less embarrassed than proud when Mama and I had no choice but to handicap him in order to keep things interesting! Rather than using a standard swaddle blanket, we switched to a specialized swaddle with pockets and velcro straps designed to straitjacket a little human whose muscles are so frail he can't even walk. Didn't matter; Jack's arms were free in seconds! Sorry for the second braggy post, but I am just a very proud Papa right now!
Lately we've been having tons of fun with an old classic, Swaddle Houdini. This is another game with asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to swaddle the baby. Jack's role, as a person who if left to his own devices would die in about a day, is to wriggle free of the swaddle, shove all his fingers in his mouth three at a time, then punch himself in the face with one hand while clawing his eyes out with the other.
Jack won handily each time we played, and I was less embarrassed than proud when Mama and I had no choice but to handicap him in order to keep things interesting! Rather than using a standard swaddle blanket, we switched to a specialized swaddle with pockets and velcro straps designed to straitjacket a little human whose muscles are so frail he can't even walk. Didn't matter; Jack's arms were free in seconds! Sorry for the second braggy post, but I am just a very proud Papa right now!
Baby Jack's First Game
I don't mean to brag, but it took less than one week for me to become convinced that Baby Jack has inherited his Papa's penchant for strategy gaming.
Back at the hospital, when Jack was just 0 days old, I successfully taught him how to play one of my all-time faves, Baby Shit Scramble. What makes Jack's skill at this game particularly impressive is that the game features asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to hoist Jack's legs in the air while I change his diaper. Jack's role, as the relatively powerless infant, is to somehow wriggle his feet out of my grasp, launch them splat in the middle of the shit in his old diaper, and stir it around as much as possible. Bonus points if he can get both feet in it. Double bonus points if he can smear the shit outside the diaper. Triple bonus points if he can do it with his socks on. Grand slam if, during this whole process, he starts peeing and pisses all over my hands, his hands, his stomach, his old diaper, his new diaper, the diaper liner, and somehow, the back of his neck.
I would hate to turn Jack off gaming, so like a good Papa, I went easy on him the first couple of times we played and let him win. But now, even when I play as hard as I can, Jack still manages to nail those bullseyes! I'm sorry for the braggy post, but I am just a very proud Papa right now!
Back at the hospital, when Jack was just 0 days old, I successfully taught him how to play one of my all-time faves, Baby Shit Scramble. What makes Jack's skill at this game particularly impressive is that the game features asymmetrical player roles. My role, as the fully developed human adult male, is to hoist Jack's legs in the air while I change his diaper. Jack's role, as the relatively powerless infant, is to somehow wriggle his feet out of my grasp, launch them splat in the middle of the shit in his old diaper, and stir it around as much as possible. Bonus points if he can get both feet in it. Double bonus points if he can smear the shit outside the diaper. Triple bonus points if he can do it with his socks on. Grand slam if, during this whole process, he starts peeing and pisses all over my hands, his hands, his stomach, his old diaper, his new diaper, the diaper liner, and somehow, the back of his neck.
I would hate to turn Jack off gaming, so like a good Papa, I went easy on him the first couple of times we played and let him win. But now, even when I play as hard as I can, Jack still manages to nail those bullseyes! I'm sorry for the braggy post, but I am just a very proud Papa right now!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)