Musings of an Italian-American Catholic wife, mother, and writer

Musings of an Italian-American Catholic wife, mother, and writer

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Truth or Dare: in which we (mostly) tell the truth and (mostly) perform all dares


When Timothy came home from school last Friday, he went looking for a snack and emerged from the pantry holding a fistful of green straws. GREEN STRAWS! He was so excited. Then he gathered paper, markers, and an entire roll of scotch tape and made giant dice.

Of course, now we had to come up with a game just so we could use the dice. So that night while we were watching the Olympics we rolled the dice to play Truth or Dare – an even number meant a dare, and an odd number meant a truth.  

We played during commercials, and because there were LOTS and LOTS of commercials, there were plenty of opportunities to play our own version of Truth or Dare in which we (mostly) told the truth and (mostly) performed all dares.  

The Truths

Me to Joe: What is the most annoying thing about me?
Joe: Your procrastination.
Huh. I KNEW he was going to say that.

But later he redeemed himself:

Me to Joe: Do you find me as attractive now as the day we first met?
Joe: Even more so!

 

Me to Timothy: Which girl do you like best in the seventh grade?
Timothy:  ------
He got all red, and he was all smiles, but absolutely, unequivocally, steadfastly refused to answer.
Darn. I was hoping to get the scoop.

 

Timothy to me: Who is your favorite son?
Me to Timothy: Because you’re right here, right now, right in this very second … you.

 

The Dares

While the dares I issued were all about stuffing 10 potato chips in your mouth or waltzing with me for one minute (I got my guys to dance!) Timothy and Joe were all about timed sprints up and down stairs, the number of pushups in under one minute, or races around the house.

I’m telling you, with commercials popping up every 8 ½ minutes we got a workout.

But here was the BEST dare of the night.

Timothy to Joe: I dare you to read the first page of this book out loud.

Then he reached blindly into our bookshelf and handed Joe a book. But not just any book. He handed Joe THE SONNETS, poems of love by William Shakespeare. So Joe began reading …

Joe to me: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day …

And during all 14 lines he was laughing, Timothy was groaning, and I was like …

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