Beech Tree News Network

My granddaughter, Sabria, is very fond of games, everything from board games to games she can seem to make up on the spot.  I’ve played all sorts of things with her, and I’m in awe at some of the variations she adds to games I’ve played all my life.  If you ever find yourself in a play group with my granddaughter, be forewarned if she ever says the words “Pause Game,” what follows are amendments and variations that will turn what you thought you were playing into something barely recognizable.
    She got the game SORRY for Christmas this year—the Minions version.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the game, the directions are pretty straight forward:  Each player has colored game pieces (red, blue, green or yellow) which they are trying to get safely to their home base.  The roll of the dice determines how many spaces your piece can move. 
During our fourth game of straight forward SORRY (Sabria won the first two, I won the third), she decided she’d had enough of the mind-numbing roll, move, roll, so she said the magic words, “Pause Game.” 
“I’m going to stop off at Green’s house and visit her before I go home.”  (Sabria is always Red and I’m always Blue.)
“Okay,” I said, “Whatever.”  I’ve found it easier to just go along with any plans she has that aren’t life-threatening.
Sabria moved her game piece up into Green’s “driveway.”  She had placed Green and her daughter, Other Green, in their home cubicle a few minutes earlier.
“Hi, Green, “she said, “How are you today?”
It’s usually at this point that she answers back in a different voice for the imaginary friend she’s talking to; this particular time, however, she didn’t answer back.  Instead, she had a look of consternation on her face. 
“What’s up with Green?” I asked.
“Her daughter broke her leg and we have to take her to the doctor,” Sabria said.
What ensued was Blue helping Red take Green’s daughter to the doctor, who incidentally, was Yellow.  Things progressed from there (or maybe, I should say digressed) to all sorts of scenarios that had Blue and Red caught up in the drama of Green’s and Yellow’s dysfunctional families in plot lines rivaling those of “All My Children” and “The Young and the Restless.”
It isn’t just board games that Sabria likes to vary.  Once, Garey and I were bouncing one of those small crazy balls with her, similar to one you use in the game of JAX, when she decided it had turned into the Golden Snitch (from Harry Potter), and we all had to jump on our brooms and try to catch it.  So we did.  It’s amazing the way she can draw you into her world.  At the time, it all makes such perfect sense.
One of my favorite things to do with my granddaughter is play on the trampoline.  It’s not that I’m particularly crazy about jumping up and down on a rubber mat, not at my age anyway; it’s more about the adventure that will unfold once I’m there.
 The last time, we played the busting bronco.  She was the main character, Alphus Bronco, and I was the wild horse.  I told her I needed a name, but she didn’t like any of the ones I chose, so I told her she would have to come up with one.   She did.  It was Cloudses Trashcanna.  Sabria often takes names from her surroundings.  There were large Cumulus clouds in the sky that day, and the trash can had blown over and rolled within view of the trampoline.  Naming things seems to be second nature for her.  There is a stray dog who has recently taken up residence with us.  Sabria decided he should be called Little Man Buddy, and so he is.  None of us questioned it, we just continue to refer to him as Little Man Buddy.  I guess he’s ours now or at least, hers.
I understand the reason my granddaughter creates so many alternative universes is probably because she gets bored with this one.  I can’t blame her.  I do too.  And once in a while, it’s good to “Pause Game” and reevaluate which way you need to go.  After all, life isn’t just about us.  Sometimes,  Green’s daughter might need help getting to the doctor.