Many people who are just acquainted with us are often shocked to ultimately find out that He and She of We are not married, or at the very least for the 21^st century, not even living together.  We spend a lot of time together but we each have our own houses and spend more time in our own houses than we do at either’s others’ houses.  Of course there are evenings we’ll be found on one or another’s sofas usually in the glow of a televised sporting event or a demanded, if not on-demanded movie. 

Last weekend we were on He of We’s furniture, about 4 feet apart, rapturously engaged in a game of words.  No, not the grand-daddy of all games of words Scrabble, not the second cousin of word games without words, Charades.  No, we were sitting next to each other, letting our fingers do the walking through Words with Friends on our cell phones.  In the same house.  In the same room.  On the same couch.

Although both of our children are either young enough, or old enough depending on your point of view, to have discovered and to have played with PlayStation, Nintendo, and Wii, none of them became one of the electronic game junkies who walk around with fingers flailing over tiny controllers of hand-held versions of the gaming consoles that hold so many in mental hostage situations.   And all of them are familiar with games that involve fold-out boards, dice, tiles, poppers, timers, and a pad and pencil to keep score.  We’re pretty proud parents that our children made it into adulthood with having hand-held electronic games listed as dependents on their income tax forms.

So where did we go wrong for ourselves?  How did we manage to find ourselves phoning in our own recreation?  Don’t tell the children this but it is darned convenient having a game at your fingertips.  No boards to pull off shelves, no tables to clear.  No looking for the pieces that fall under the chairs, no pencil sharpeners to wonder if we even still have to look for.  No shaking up bags of tiles to pick from randomly, no wondering if that really is a word and will I look foolish if I challenge it.

So yes, we’ve succumbed to the dark side.  This time.  We’re willing to let a microprocessor randomly select letters and accurately add up scores.  We still get to use the best game piece – our minds.  Yep, of all the things we’ve lost – tile holders, letters, box tops, score cards – we’ve not yet lost our minds.  We’re pretty sure of that.  Yeah, pretty sure.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?