My Dad And His Stupid Checkers.

If you have sibblings, you knew that they knew you had hot buttons.  They would push one or more of those hot buttons every chance they got.  I had, and still have, a younger brother, and older sister.  When we all still lived at home we did plenty of button pushing which usually ended up in a fight of some sort.

But no one could get my goat like my very own father, who claimed he loved me.  Here's the deal.  Burr Oak had a group of guys that got together often and played checkers.  I wished I knew who all played, but that's beside the point.  My uncle Ivan Patnode and my dad were the only two I remember.  Daddy would come home from town and talk about the checker games like as if it were a major sport.  Undeniably, my father was a good checker player. 

I too liked to play games, and my dad was always trying to get me to play checkers with him.  I wouldn't play with him because I didn't know how to play.  "Oh I'll teach you" said my father.  One evening I gave in and sat down at the checkerboard and chose the red checkers.  We began to play.  I didn't know what to do.  Daddy said to just move one of your checkers, except you can't go backwards unless you're a king.  So I moved my checker.  Daddy would say to me "MY! That was a poor move."  I didn't like his tone of voice at all.  And worse, he wouldn't tell me why it was a poor move.  I don't know if it's possible, but it seemed like to me, he swept me off the board in just a few moves.  And every, single time I moved, he'd say "MY! that was a poor move."  I swore I'd never play with him again.  But I did.  The last game I every played him and he told me what a poor move I had made I was enraged.  By the end of the game I was fit to be tied.  I told him I was never, ever, ever, going to play checkers with him again.  And I didn't, 

My mother refused to play checkers with him too.  I think I understand why.  It was not in the best interest of family harmony.