February 26, 2005
I am very good at working crossword puzzles. I'll kick your ass in a game of Scrabble, too. Words are something I like to play with.
Yesterday, mama and I got into an argument about who was the best worker of crosswords. "Phffttt!: she said. "I'm the best that's ever been." She's good, but she can't beat me. I once told her that she paid for my COLLEGE EDUCATION so that I could work crosswords better than she could. She never bought that lame excuse.
When I was laid up at her house after my prostate surgery, I couldn't do very much physically, so I wrote a lot and worked crossword puzzles every day. I bought the Dell "EXPERT" books, too, filled with very complex puzzles, that you have to know your shit to solve. I used to play a trick on my mama.
I'd find a really hard puzzle, fill in a few boxes and go off to take a nap. I'd leave the magazine open on the Florida Room table, because I KNEW that mama couldn't resist. She'd see that partially-worked puzzle and have a genunine hormone attack. That thing HAD to be finished, and she'd go after it. You show my mama a half-worked crossword puzzle and it's like throwing a bone to a hungry dog. She's gonna gnaw on it.
Mama is good, but she's not as good as I am no matter how long she denies that fact. I would rise from my nap, find that puzzle 85% worked, then finish it off while mama watched.
"Phffftt!" she always said. ""You never would have finished it without my help. You were stuck when you quit."
That's my mama. She'll beat your ass at Scrabble or working crossword puzzles if you give her the chance. She ain't slack at either contest. Modesty is not her top quality, either. She'll talk shit at you.
But she's not as good as I am am, whether she admits it or not.
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