True Confessions:


Sad but true. She beats me at Scrabble. And I’m the writer in the family. (She’s just a journalist.)  I pride myself on a good vocabulary, but it doesn’t appear to help. My wife knows all these obscure little two-letter words that rack up the big points. Then again, I have only myself to blame. Years ago I gave her a Pocket PC and an electronic version of the game. It quickly became her obsession. Every night, for hours, she played, determined to beat the brainy artificial intelligence lurking in the circuits. It kicked her butt for months, but then she suddenly started winning. She got so good, in fact, she longed for s higher level. Of course, I thought nothing of it at the time.

My mistake.

Recently we started playing a digital version of the game on my computer. I spelled big fat words worthy of Bill Buckley, yet still I came up short. Again and again I lost. It was so infuriating I began to cheat, i.e., I resorted to the game’s “Hint” button. Aha! I’ll get you now!

She still won.

Recently, the score has gotten closer…close but no cigar.

Those two-letter words just shut me down. What can I say?

F*ck  Scrabble.

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