I'm trying to make Thankful Friday a regular habit again. I really am. Thanks to all of you who've encouraged me to do so. It means a lot, and it's working, I swear, slowly but surely.
So someone at Jelly Belly came up with an idea to sell more boxes of Jelly Bellies: a game called BeanBoozled. The rules, basically, are that you spin the spinner and it tells you what color jelly bean you get to (or have to) eat -- only you don't know whether it's going to be yummy or disgusting.
Jelly Belly BeanBoozled jelly beans are a collection of 20 lookalike flavors, some so crazy you can’t believe it, while others are the delicious Jelly Belly beans you love. New this year are Canned Dog Food and Centipede flavors. They join a delicious Top Banana Jelly Belly bean--or is it Pencil Shavings flavor? Is the black jelly been Licorice, or is it Skunk Spray? Perhaps the blue bean is Toothpaste flavor, or maybe it's delicious Berry Blue.
Marketing FAIL, you say? Well, my sister bought a box and presented it to the kids, and they couldn't stop playing, even though they spent half the time gagging, eyes watering, and spitting jelly bean goo into napkins. Pretty gross, I know, but with television and computer games threatening to eat my children's brains, I'm gonna have to say that games without screens are very dear to me. A few favorites, lately:
Good old Twister! I bought it for Taavi for his birthday, kind of as a filler gift. But guess what? AWESOME. Pictures tell the story best:
We'd had a late night, and there were a few drinks involved, so I was drifting in and out of sleep trying to grab a few extra Z's when I heard Kai and Taavi coming up the stairs. They were having a measured conversation, sounding more like colleagues than young siblings.
Stomp, stomp, stomp up the stairs.
"I'm going to wake Mummy up," Taavi said matter of factly. And I didn't mind; in fact I sort of ached to have their shiny little faces appear in the doorway.
But Hugh shooed them away dutifully. "Let Mummy sleep," he told them.
They didn't protest as I expected they would, just did an about face and headed stomp, stomp, stomp down the stairs. I imagined their fallen faces, their broken little hearts. But there were no sounds of distress, no mournful wails. In fact, I didn't hear a peep from them.
They were quiet.
I couldn't resist; I had to see what they were up to. I slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs after them.
And there they were marching out of the kitchen to the living room. Kai was holding the small wicker basket we keep the chess pieces in, and Taavi was carrying the heavy wooden chess board, which is chin to shin high on him and the width of his arm span.
"We're going to play chess," they chirped, and off they went, and I thought my heart was going to burst with what great companions they are to each other, and how fast they're growing up, and how very much I love them.
And now, right now, in fact, I've got to go pick Kai and Taavi up from their afterschool program. I have to pick them up precisely at 6:00, because if I come a minute before the program shuts down for the night Kai will be very, very sad.
Why, you ask? How could she possibly be sad to see her mom a bit earlier than usual after a long day at school?
Because it's BINGO night.
So... gotta run. But tell me about your favorite games, and if we have a games night sometime, you're invited!