My dad hated playing Candy Land. I never understood why. Until now.
1) Everyone wants the same color gingerbread man. Every time. It doesn’t matter if Sean’s favorite color is blue and Evan’s is read. If the other had it first, then the second needs it NOW.
2) Sean must have more than one. Evan finds this unfair. I don’t care as long as it keeps the peace.
3) Evan must have every gingerbread man piece lined up just so, even if Sean is not going to play with the game.
4) Evan must make up an elaborate story before the first card is drawn. Woe to those who try to play without listening to the long winded story.
5) Sean, who was once satisfied to just play with his pieces by himself and occasionally tornado through the game board, which gave me an opportunity to use my awesome visual memory, wants to pull cards too.
6) Sean: Blue!
Me: No, Sean. Red. That’s red.
Me: No, Sean. That’s orange.
Me: Good job, Sean. Blue.
Me: No, Sean. That’s green. Grrrreeeeeennnnn.
7)Evan must make up a story about every move, every person, every color, every square, every picture, every move.
8)Evan: And this guy said hello. He liked red, but he didn’t like blue. Or green. Just red. And he said, “Look at those squares. There is a red one and a blue one and a green one and a yellow one and an orange one.” And he jumped to the red one because he liked red. He said to the kids, “Come follow me.” And they followed him. There was a little girl, a little boy, another little girl, and another boy. They sat at the- What’s this called again? Oh, yeah. The gingerbread tree, and they said, “Hello, gingerbread tree.” And he said . . .”
9) Evan has to ask the same questions over and over and over.
10) Evan: What’s that, Mommy?
Me: That’s a peppermint beaver. No, Sean. That’s orange.
Evan: Oh, and what’s he doing?
Me: Cutting down-
Me:- candy canes. No, Sean. That’s yellow.
Evan: And who’s that?
Me: Mr. Mint. No, that’s yellow again. Same card I think.
Evan: What’s that?
Me: A peppermint beaver.
11) Evan thinks that double squares actually mean three squares. The first one doesn’t count.
12) Evan wants to go down the bridges, back and forth and without landing on them.
13) Sean is obsessed with ice cream.
Sean: Cream! Cream! (after he moved my head to look, pointing at the ice cream palace.)
14) Does any one remember when it was Princess Lolly, daughter of the King of Candy Land?
15) Evan: Mommy, what’s that?
Me: (How many times do I have to tell you it’s) The Chocolate Swamp.
16) Evan doesn’t want to keep drawing cards and is surprised he didn’t win as soon as he usually does; while, I kick myself for not stacking the cards And stacking the cards.
17) After finally making it to the chocolate monster, Evan wants to visit the peanut area. And read the story. And ask me more questions. And tell me more stories.
18) Sean decides he wants to move the board.
19) Candy Land ends the way Monopoly used to end at my parents’ house when I was a kid. Game pieces were thrown, cards scattered, and Mom yelling to quit it.
20) Evan wants to put away the board before Sean does. Crying resumes.
21) Evan decides he wants a lollypop. No, a candy cane. No, chocolate. How about some ice cream?
Sure you do, kid. That was the whole point of the game. But I guarantee you, I need it more than you.
May 25, 2009 at 5:19 pm
What is it about playing with plastic figures on a board brings out the worst in people? Myself included!
Just wait until they start playing Risk!
May 25, 2009 at 7:14 pm
We just played that (again) today. And as crazy as it drives me to pull Mr. Mint when all I need is a red square to be home free, I’ll take Candyland over Chutes and Ladders any day.
Growing up I never understood why my mom would rather clean the kitchen or vacuum or wash windows over of playing Monopoly with me. I totally get it now.
May 25, 2009 at 7:44 pm
It’s good I come here and see reality instead of the little dream I have. I just played this with my mentee kid and it went swimingly. But she’s nine and it was just the two of us and she’s a doll. So I was all: oh it will be a blast, but I think the trick is, it’s only fun with one sweet little kid.
May 25, 2009 at 9:32 pm
You are a brave soul. We didn’t play board games until they were older, like trivial pursuit older.
May 25, 2009 at 11:48 pm
That’s hilarious! Mostly because we play Candyland a LOT and I can picture everything. Great post, Fae.
Monkey loves that game because he always wins. I, on the other hand, draw the stupid peanut RIGHT near the end every freakin’ time.
May 26, 2009 at 7:43 am
One piece of advice for you — Trouble and Sorry are two games you might want to consider pre-emptively banning from your home!!
May 26, 2009 at 12:44 pm
Oh, the dreaded Candy Land. And I disagree with CK…Chutes and Ladders makes me want to bang my head against the wall. So does Sorry, listen to KB! We got this Junior Monopoly game and tried to play that, but….
I guess I just don’t like bored games. Oops, I meant to say BOARD games.
May 26, 2009 at 1:40 pm
Mark~ I know what you mean. My brothers and I are vicious. And the husband and I have been warned never to play together again.
ck~ I’ve never finished a game of monoploly as my brothers and I would abandon the game to duke it out of embesolment and fraud.
Court~ She’s nine and not your kid; hence it went swimmingly.
insider~ I’m learning. I’m learning.
Ink~ Stack the cards.
KathyB!~ Ha! I fear that my brothers will buy them for the boys as they loved those games. But I’ll do my best.
Gibby~ Growing up we never finished a game unless there was adult supervision. We didn’t play them a lot.
May 26, 2009 at 6:30 pm
I agree with CK. Chutes and Ladders sucks.
May 27, 2009 at 1:25 pm
It must be bad because we never owned it, so I have never played it. Hmm.