*Mr. T & Other Non-traditions

Brother Tony & me, with a neighborhood photobomber.

“Miiiiista T!”

Tony and I, arms outstretched stiffly to our sides, jumped down the last few stairs into the living room, shouting the theme song of the early 1980s ‘Mister T’ animated series in unison. Mum was in the kitchen washing dishes. As we stood there with highest anticipation, frozen in perfect “T” position, she dropped the cup she’d been washing into the water filled sink and ran after us, with bubbles covering her arms and hands, laughing hysterically. We wiggled and giggled uncontrollably, and ran back up the stairs to avoid the impending tickle fest, only to return again, two minutes later, with the same routine. However unconventional, this had become our favorite game.

Traditional we were not, and I loved that about Mum. Other kids were sitting with their parents playing charades or even Monopoly, but we were creating make believe worlds under blankets, singing and dancing along to The Beatles’ Abbey Road and of course, playing the wonderful game we created called “Mister T.” I’d read all of the cards in the Trivial Pursuit and Ripley’s Believe It Or Not games, anyhow, which made me no fun to play with, apparently. 

Excerpt from chapter fourteen | name of the game | Everything’s Hunky Dory: A Memoir