Christmas board games, flying monkeys keep us young at heart

Some kids never grow up and my husband is one of them. No child escapes his playful attention, whether they’re out walking with their parents, sitting in a restaurant high chair or waiting to board a plane.

Don seems to really take to heart the admonition to keep the Christmas spirit all year long.

In the hurly burly of life, we tend to forget that celebration plays an important part in our lives. The holiday season offers a perfect opportunity to remember that truth as we find ways to be thankful and express our love for others.

Small wonder that the family traditions that bring us joy also connect the generations, give us a sense of our history and allow us time to just plain have fun.

Instinctively, we all seem to know that children crave time and freedom to play. So why is it that over the years we often overlook how much we still need to release the child inside of us to enjoy the same delights?

Maybe it’s better to ease up on ourselves, even if all of our holiday preparations end up a little less than perfect. As G. K. Chesterton reminds us, “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.”

For years, board games have been an important part of our family’s holiday get-togethers. Battleship reigned supreme for the adult males in the family and where Uno, Go Fish and dominoes left off with the little ones, checkers, Monopoly and Scrabble soon took over.

I love the guesswork of Pictionary, but as the only family member who doesn’t have a clue about drawing, the artistic part of the game makes it a tremendous challenge for anyone with me as a partner.

One Christmas we all eventually gathered at our daughter’s home in Gearhart, Oregon, but the group from Tennessee flew in to visit us in Pierce County before heading south. The day before Christmas, that Tennessee quintet headed off to Gearhart in a burgeoning snowstorm.

By the time our son was able to drive down from Seattle to make the trip with us, the Tennessee group had sent us numerous weather reports about the accumulation, downed trees and traffic. We heeded their suggested adjustments and finally arrived after it had turned dark.

Our youngest grandson from the earlier contingent greeted us at the door, saying, “Oh good, we managed to get through playing Pictionary before you got here, Grandma.”

He was kind enough not to add, “So no one had to play with you.” But everyone in the family knew what he meant and broke up laughing at his candor.

At some point Don and I also began a yearly collection of convention giveaways like Frisbees, Nerf balls and toy trucks for our five grandsons. Much to the chagrin of our own offspring, who had to contend with all this “stuff” coming into their homes, each year we packed all of it into a separate box for each grandkid to enjoy along with their “real” gifts.

A few years ago, as the older ones reached college age, we decided to bring along some new flying monkeys to remind them of past Christmas aerial encounters but discovered their memories needed no jogging. Before we had a chance to launch our missiles, were were deluged by a hailstorm of past years’ Frisbees and monkeys.

There was a synergy in that battle with our grandkids that generated much delight in all of us. Happiness, they say, is contagious. Even the homily at church that morning began with the sharing of toys.

We need to cherish the part of us that craves tradition – and still wants to play. Joy to your world.

This story was originally published November 30, 2018 at 2:20 PM.