We all know that Avey is fond of games. She especially loves role-playing games, where each player has a certain part to enact. Several months ago, she and I came up with a few random games that she still loves to experience again and again these days. We go through one of them about every week these days. I think these are worthy of posting for future reference when she’s much older.
The first game is the Doctor Game:
Avey touches Daddy’s nose, and it makes a beeping sound.
Taken aback, Daddy tests this new phenomenon by touching his nose by himself. His disbelief is outdone only by Avey’s giggles as he finds that his nose does indeed beep upon contact with his finger.
After a few more trials and exaggerated anxiety over this bizarre finding, Avey suggests through her laughter that we should go to the doctor to see if he can help.
We are then instantly transported to a doctor’s office where I then have to fill the role of both Doctor and histrionic patient while Avey attempts to be the supportive daughter during this uncertain time. The script usually goes something like this:
Dr. [somewhat annoyed] – “Oh, hello again Mr. Ricks. What seems to be the problem this time?”
Daddy [full of theatrics] – “Doctor! You have to help me! I don’t know what’s wrong!”
Dr. [fighting the urge to roll his eyes] – “You don’t say.”
Daddy – “Yes I do! It’s happening again Doc! Every time somebody touches my nose, it makes this ominous beeping sound!”
Dr. [playing along] – “Oh yes. I’ve seen this before. Let’s take a look.”
The doctor (I) inspects Daddy’s (my) nose. Sure enough, the beep takes place as soon as the contact does. Daddy looks desperately to the doctor for any hope of a cure.
The doctor pretends to think for a moment and says – “Yes, I can help you. You see, Mr. Ricks, the beeping noise is coming from your mouth.”
Daddy – “Yes, yes! But what does that mean?”
Dr. – “Well, it means that you are making the sound.”
Daddy [confused] – “Okay.”
Dr. – “So just stop making the noise with your mouth whenever anybody touches it.”
Daddy [cautiously] – “So you’re saying that if I just stop making the noise with my mouth, my nose won’t beep any more?”
Dr. – “Yes, that’s right. That will be $200.”
Naturally, the more we go through the scenario, Avey has taken on more of the role of trying to convince Daddy that he has the power to stop the beeping at any time he wishes. Last time, she even tried to explain the problem to me before we went to the doctor, but had us go just to be sure.
Another that Avey loves in particular is known as Calling Vic.
Avey climbs onto my back, but tells me to “not remember that [she’s] climbing on [me].” I obey, as always.
As I walk around the house, oblivious to the 34 pound hitchhiker wrapped around my neck, Avey begins to make little squeaking noises.
I finally catch on that something is not quite right, so I venture into the bathroom to catch a glimpse of the cause of these noises in the mirror.
As soon as I flip on the light, I scream in terror to see that I’ve become host to a small human girl. She laughs hysterically.
She suggests that I call Vic.
I then play the role of Vic, an exterminator, as well as myself.
Vic [with a southern accent] – “Vic’s Extermination.”
Daddy [as if I’m being attacked by an alligator] – “Vic, you gotta help me! It’s back!”
Vic [dryly] – “Is that you again Mr. Ricks?”
Daddy – “There’s no time, Vic! Get over here quick!”
Vic [obviously unhurried] – “I’m on my way.”
Vic arrives at the door. I let him in.
Daddy – “Oh Vic! Thank goodness! Can you see it? It’s right here on my back!”
Vic [unimpressed] – “Yes sir, I see it.”
Daddy – “Well, what is it? Does it have sharp teeth? Is it drinking my blood? Has it stung me yet?”
Vic – “No sir. Actually, I’m pretty sure this is your daughter.”
Daddy [in disbelief] – “No! It can’t be!”
Vic – “Yes sir, I think it is.”
Daddy looks more closely in the mirror. Further inspection reveals that, yes, it is indeed Avey.
Daddy [embarrassed] – “Oh.”
I let Avey down off of my back.
Vic – “That’ll be $50.”
For some reason these games never get old to her. I bet it’s mostly because she loves to watch me embarrass myself, all the while knowing better. Hopefully these games will still be fun to her in 50 years when senility sinks in and it’s no longer a game.