I’ve been trying, although apparently without measurable progress, to contain my game collection to a cabinet/shelf unit to the right of a large armoire in a common area in our house. It was a losing battle and games had begun to pile up on top of the game cabinet. Where do you put 130+ games? At times I needed to stand on the arm of the couch, lean out, and stretch to grab some of the boxes perched precariously near the ceiling. For me, the guy that can throw out his back while flossing, the “maneuver” bordered on extreme sports. As my will power waned and as time progressed I ran out of room and, unfortunately, right next to the shelf was an expansive flat spot…the top of the armoire. In my house, flat spots emit light and sound proportional to their flat-spottiness. Light and sound like that found only behind cherubic halos coupled with choral music announcing epiphanies; a beacon to all that needs piling and stacking.
I’d recently gotten lazy (only recently?) and when returning “top shelf” games to the shelf, I’d placed them on top of the armoire rather than mustering sherpas, donning oxygen tanks, and climbing Mt. Everest to find a spot on top of the game shelf. I’d not taken the time to restack the games and the number of games on top of the shelf had dwindled to a respectable (is that even possible?) size numbering only 8-10 games; the treeline of my game mountain. However, the top of the armoire, proving to be a highly fertile area, produced games in numbers above 20; a side effect of not only lazy restocking but also the release of pent up board game acquisitional behaviors.
Lisa had mentioned that she’d noticed that my games (*my* games…honey…they’re *our* games) had recently grown quite dramatically. After stammering something unintelligible about stacking, good deals, generous friends, free games, and games I need to get rid of I think I blacked out. I could hear my voice saying things but my comprehension had dwindled to that only found when listening to a Peanuts school teacher. I snapped out of my surreal experience when Lisa said, “You don’t have to justify them. I just noticed.”
Thanks hon. Do you want to play a game? Let me get the ladder…