I love to play games - especially card games - and during Christmas in California there were a lot of opportunities to play. I enjoyed all of it but I especially enjoyed playing Hearts on Christmas Eve.
I spent most of my tween years resenting my kid status and remember being allowed to play Hearts with the adults with great fondness. Seated at the table with my grandparents and parents made me feel like I was being taken seriously, the singular goal of my adolescence. My Dad is a fiend at the game and, as I recall, he would “shoot the moon” with frequency; that he was often successful impressed me then.
On Christmas Eve, my nephew C dealt out a game of Hearts and I played with him and my Mom and Dad. True to my memory (and his history), Dad smoothly shot the moon on the first hand. He did it the deadly certainty I remember from all those years ago. My Mom saw it coming but, like the rest of us, she was powerless to stop it. C was impressed and that was fun to see. I haven’t played Hearts with my Dad for years but this game brought it all back. It was one of the nicest hours I spent during my holiday and I am so grateful that C dealt me in.
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