Last week I discovered something new.  And as with most of my discoveries, I’m about a decade behind in discovering it.  Yes, my faithfuls, that game you all left behind your junior year of college–the Settlers of Catan –has only recently found it’s way into my home and my psyche.  And I’m not very good at it.  And that makes me mad.

It makes me mad that I’m always just one settlement, one city, one Development Card away from winning.  It makes me even madder when my seven-year old son steals my Longest Road card for the win.  And I rage–oh how I rage–when my smug, victorious husband walks away–yet again–with the triumph that should have been mine.  He’s already stolen my youth and beauty; must he steal my Settlers of Catan victory, too?


You should know that I am not a competitive person by nature.  I’m a blue-personalitied middle child who could stand to be a bit more competitive, as it would drive me to be a more impressive person.  (I’d be smarter, wealthier, and prettier.)  (And I would have married much better.)  (But that’s a whole ‘nother thing.)  However, when I invest two-plus hours in a board game–two hours that would otherwise be spent sewing, canning, or doing genealogy, no doubt–I want to win.  And I want to win bad.  So when I don’t win, which is pretty much always, I just don’t take it very well.  In the interest of full disclosure, let me define what not “taking it very well” means: