Bad for my Ego

I recently joined the 21st century and got a smart phone. I realized it was necessary when my long distance family constantly tried to text me pictures and videos, none of which I could accept on my blocky little phone that didn't even have games.

And speaking of games. Now that I have a smart phone, not only can I take pictures and videos, check my emails, get GPS directions, and a slew of other amazing things (that I won't mention because I sound like a total dork), but my phone now has awesome games! Of course, I have to go to this magical place called the app store and buy them. But hey, they're still games! And not just ordinary games. Oh no, my friend. The sun has set on the era of Worm and Parachute, and it has risen on the day of Angry Birds and Fruit Ninja.

My recent obsession? Word games. I can now challenge my husband, my sisters, my brothers, my nephews, my mother-in-law - whoever I want! - to a word duel. The game is set up very much like Scrabble, with letter tiles and a board with spots to gain extra points. The nice thing is, I play my turn and wait. The opponent plays their turn from their phone when they're ready. And then it's my turn again. So it's not a sit around and play this game until it's finished type of thing. A single game can last weeks.

I was so excited, I squealed in delight the first time the little icon popped up and said, "Your Move."

Words, ha. This should be easy! I thought gleefully as I rubbed my hands and practically salivated at the tiny screen. It was deliciously empty, just waiting for me to display my literary genius.

I am, after all, a writer. Words are my life.

Boy, it really hurts falling off your high horse.

Long story short, I have played dozens of games...and as much as it pains me to say this...I've never won a single round. I've played against people my own age. People older. People married to me who should cut me a little freaking slack. I've even played against my twelve-year-old nephew. Twice! I'm currently horn-locked in a gripping game with my ten-year-old nephew, and I seem to have the upper hand. But hey. I have almost 20 years more experience with words than he does. That's hardly fair. And who knows? Maybe in the end he'll surprise me and stab me through the gut with his victory.

Just like everybody else.

Sigh.

If there is one thing I know about myself, without a doubt, and will be the very first to admit it, it is this: I am a poor loser.

As much as I still love these word games, it's almost physically painful to play them because it's a CONSTANT reminder of something I'm trying not to admit.

I stink.

Now when the little icon pops up and says, "Your Move," I want to hurl my phone against the wall.

But then I'd be left to my old blocky phone with no internet. No picture and video text messages. No email and GPS. And worst of all...no games.

I suppose I'll just have to endure the public humiliation of my never-ending defeats until, one day, I rise victorious. Even if it is at the expense of a ten-year-old. Pin It