The lockdown blog: day 17

Monopoly is amazing at its ability to turn, even the most unwilling, participants into fat cat capitalists. It's almost like it's inspired by real life socioeconomic systems or something?  
Child A did not want to play. She grumbled, she groaned, she feigned ignorance. She used all the tricks. Myself and Child B hustled and convinced her--by her third dice throw she was exclaiming enthusiastically "I LOVE this game" and laughing uproariously at my pitiful rent take-ins.  Much to my chagrin, I was losing. Badly.  The game shall be continued when I return tomorrow. Waiting for me is a note, beside my reducing pile of money, reminding me that 'I owe' child B two pounds. No, he will not let me off. He's a tough landlord. Perhaps Herbert Simms or the Dublin corp. might step in to help me out? 
We play this game whilst using over the top British accents--funny that--and sitting cross legged on the floor. The wolves of Grafton St. 

Before becoming capitalists, myself and Child A exercised our creative sides (perhaps this should be done more often?) and attempted to convert Beyonce's 'Love on Top' into an ode to our dear Taoiseach, encouraging him, ever so politely, ("Micheál it's youuu") to hurry up with the vaccine rollout. It ended in no uncertain terms with the defining line "Finally, can you make this stop?". I think it's a song for our generation. 


xoxo creative capitalists

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