Every Hand's A Winner

So I’m sitting there at the kitchen table with my eldest and we’re playing War with his deck of round cards with the soccer balls on the back, and it’s just high card wins which is simple enough until you throw out a face card and find yourself explaining things like the gender inequalities that led to this gaming system where kings always win over queens, never mind the tactical advantages that a queen’s army may have over a king’s in real life, and then I find myself thinking, huh, maybe chess was revenge for that whole cards thing. Or did chess come first?

And then my kid tosses out a Queen and I toss out a Jack and my three-year-old is squirming in my lap and the five-year-old is trying to remember out loud if it’s the Q or the J that’s higher and I’m thinking to myself, huh, I guess this right here is just about the highlight of the day, and right about then the kid pipes up and he doesn’t ask which card wins, but rather, who the hell is this Jack person? Which is a good question to which I don’t know the answer. Isn’t he the guy that’s diggling the queen on the side or something? And if so, why does such a person get to beat a ten card? Or for that matter, an eight, what with its propensity for going on into infinity?

“I don’t know, son,” I told him, “but here’s something I do know. Hey, look at me.”

He looked up from his cards and I leaned in close and looked him in those big browns that his Mom gave him. He didn’t have any whiskey on him, so I just gave him the advice for free.

“Son,” I started, “you’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. Know when to walk away, know when to run.”

He starts laughing at me, as does the wife. I can’t believe these people.

“And son, you never count your money when you’re sitting at the table.”

This kid’s never heard this song in his life. What’s so damn hilarious?

“There’ll be time enough for counting when the dealing’s done.”

As for the wife, I don’t know what she finds so amusing. This is solid world-weary wisdom straight from the mouth of a nameless mooch with a gambling addiction that met Kenny Rogers on a train this one time.

“Okay kid, laugh all you want, but you’ll wish you’d listened next time you find yourself in some saloon somewhere."

Parental wisdom: unappreciated aside from its entertainment value.