Three red x’s took up half the page on the note, my oldest son, Nicholas, age 8, brought home from school last year. Arrows pointed to
the line that read, “Does not play nicely with others”. At the bottom, his teacher, a very nice lady, wrote “Other than the above issue,
Nicholas is a joy to teach!! Can we schedule a conference for TOMORROW?”
Everyone who ever told me I should put my child in preschool so he could learn to get along with others came rushing back to me. Was
my son kicking little Johnny or pulling Susie’s hair? Was he stealing toys? Or heaven forbid, not sharing?
I called my son’s teacher.
“Nicholas is having twenty minute crying jags when he doesn’t win a game we play in class,” she said.
“He is?” I asked, perplexed by her statement. Nicholas always won at home, so I had no idea he would react this way. Every parenting book
I ever read said children should feel special and accepted. I followed this advice to the letter—with only three red X’s to show for it.
“Do you think you could work on this at home? Winning isn’t everything.” She reminded me.
Let The Games Begin...
We had our first official game night that evening. Before I pulled the game out of the box, all four children were fussing over who would
go first.
“I get to take it out of the box!”
“I get to sit by Mama!”
How would we ever get through the first game? At the rate we were going, the hour would pass and the game would still be sitting on the
table unopened.
“We are going to read the rules first,” I said. I took the box from the two red-faced children engaged in a tug of war—yellow and blue
gingerbread men pieces flew across the room. “In order to play any game, every player must know how to play.”
Thankfully, Candy Land ’s
“official game play instructions” instructed the youngest child to go first.
Two minutes into the game, Nicholas had a break down.
“Everyone else has moved two color spaces. I’ve only moved one colored space.” He screamed loud enough to wake the neighbor—who did not
wake up when a tree from Hurricane Katrina slammed into her roof.
I put on my best Super Nanny
persona and explained to him that most games are about chance and that everyone could not move two spaces.
“I hate this game!”
Fifteen cry fests, eight time outs, one hundred-twelve reminders that game play is not about winning, and two hours later, we managed to
complete the game.
The situation was dire, but I was determined. “Talks at inappropriate times” might be ok, but “not playing nicely with others” was not.
Family game night turned into every night.
We progressed to ten cry fests and three time outs in one week. By the end of week two, I even looked forward to it. One month later no
one cried over losing and the children learned to congratulate the winner with a “good job” and a pat on the back.
An Evening Worth Repeating
At the end of the year I again received a note from Nick’s teacher; this time praising his skills at playing nicely with others. “...He even
helps children who are not so good at it,” she added near the bottom.
A year and a half later, we still have our family game night. The phones and TV are turned off. Our rickety table, that the marbles from
Chinese Checkers
roll off of, is set up. And the family gathers round as we laugh, learn, and play.
I never thought three red x’s could teach our family so much.
About The Author:
Tiffany Fitch lives in Jackson with her four children and husband, Bill. When not chasing wild munchkins through the house,
she spends her time writing and entertaining readers on her blog, http://www.xanga.com/neuroticfitchmom
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