Don't Call Me Trump, or a Lambert Family Game Night

Harrison and my dad fell asleep shortly after dinner last night so Ashley, Bryan, Chris, Kelly and I sidled up to Chris and Kelly's dining room table to play Monopoly. Following a sluggish start by yours truly (I accidentally gave more than one passer of GO money out of my own account instead of the bank's) I wound up purchasing three hotels on very pricey plots of land and a fat wad of penalty rent soon poured in. Needless to say, I was very well-positioned to win the evening before a painful last-minute turn of events saw Bryan's game piece land on Free Parking with the night's final roll to completely ruin my efforts to claw back out of the fake poverty that I'd brought upon myself by being a friggin' idiot. To make matters worse, my dad woke up from his post-dinner nap while the game was still in progress, saw me gobbling up land and loot like a damn boss and proceeded to convince everyone at the table to start calling me Donald Trump which totally didn't bother me in the slightest. On a completely unrelated note, here's a picture of my dad fast asleep in an armchair at like eight o'clock.

After Monopoly was stashed safely back in its box we all watched Sisters together on the living room floor and then had a sleepover which means that for the first time in as long as I can remember (or maybe ever, actually) a game night with my siblings didn't result in the board being flipped onto the floor in anger (me) or boredom (Kelly). Also, nobody lost blood, or teeth.