“You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.” ~Albert Einstein
A good thought. But not always the case when playing a rousing round of Monopoly with your spouse. And so it was yesterday afternoon. A nice bottle of Caymus, a plate of sharp cheddar and water crackers, and a challenge with Hubs so that he might, once again, reclaim his reign as Monopoly Mogul. But, a las, it was not to be. For the second time in a row…just call me Leona. Not sure if it was strategy or luck because I starting out with such a meager haphazard array of properties along with both utilities and two railroads. But some how, I kept winning prizes and skating past his properties while he, some how, kept having to pay income tax, rent and railroad fees. After a couple of inside deals, the properties began making improvements with houses. But this round of play found no reason for further improvements to hotels as his cash was meager. And, therefore, I stayed liquid with a roll of dough. The last time we played, poor Hubs went bankrupt on, what I so fittingly dubbed, Crack Row as I had hotels on the purple slums just past GO. This time, I swaggered uptown and the game ended on a five star note of rent due on two Boardwalk houses…more likely elegant pre-war brownstones. With each roll, his little race car seemed headed for (and landed on) trouble (oops my fault). On the other hand, my little top hat was skipping around the board, shacking rent-free and whizzing past GO each time. A win that even Mr. Trump would revere. Hmmm, I wonder…with the Monopoly reign still safe in my hands if there might be an apprentice job available…. Or maybe not. Maybe, I’ll continue my reign as the very understated, yet terribly chic Monopoly Mama.