He's a cowboy ...

This month's results are in, and they're good! My M-spike is again completely stable at 1.5. 

I tried to find a picture of Bon Jovi in a stable, but this was the best I could do. 

Yes, it's come to this.

Yes, it's the latest NKOTB video. No need to thank me.

Meanwhile, back at Wayne Manor ...

WCK made this Batman card for Jay's birthday today ...

... and it reminded me of something that happened at the cancer center this morning. I was sitting in the crowded waiting area, waiting for a nurse to pop through the door and call my name. A nurse popped out  and called, "Bruce?" A split second later, the nurse right behind her called out, "Alfred?"

I looked around to see if anyone else noticed how awesome that was, but nobody seemed to care. Then again, maybe HIPAA regulations require us to ignore Batman in a medical setting.

The Great Wolf Lodge

Usually we have a big party filled with screaming wonderful children to celebrate WCK's birthday. Those parties were starting to wear on me, so I suggested the three of us spend a night at the Great Wolf Lodge in Kansas City instead of throwing a party. The Great Wolf Lodge is one of WCK's favorite places on earth, so she quickly agreed. We hadn't been there in a couple of years, so I'd forgotten a lot about the Great Wolf Lodge. Mostly, I'd forgotten how The Great Wolf Corporation has found wildly creative ways to just suck the money right out of you.

If the Great Wolf Lodge can charge you a fee, they will charge you a fee. WCK likes to play a game called "Magic Quest", where kids use plastic magic wands to interact with objects around the hotel. (I blogged about that a few years ago.) We still have the magic wand she purchased back then, so we tried using it again. It was a fully functional wand, but when we tried to use it at one of the computer stations, we were told it had run out of magic. We had to take it to the magic wand store to get the "magic" "replaced" for $13.

Yes, you can put a price on magic. It costs $13.

Later, we were waiting in line to fight a giant computer-animated dragon on a screen, something we had tried to do a few times before with little success. The dragon kept killing us. A little girl in front of me showed me her magic wand. It was much fancier than WCK's and had a big plastic dragon on the top. "It's an insta-kill," she told me, matter-of-factly.

Apparently, if you go to the magic wand store and pay extra, you can buy a special wand that will allow you to kill the dragon instantly, instead of, you know, working hard. We were trying to kill him through perseverance and skill, like suckers! All we needed to do was fork over more money!

Anyway. I think the tipping point for Jay was when he was charged a "processing fee" to play the video games at the arcade. 

When the Great Wolf Lodge had finished sucking away our money, we returned home to find we now have three pregnant Sea Monkeys and two new babies. Looks like the Sea Monkeys had a wild weekend while we were away.

Free shirtless Joe doll with purchase

There was a suggestion on my Facebook page that I sell my Partridge Family game to a rich Baby Boomer and use the money to buy a New Kids on the Block board game. Oh my goodness, I thought. Is there such a thing?

A quick Google search revealed ...

YES!! YES!!! THERE IS SUCH A THING!!

Hours of fun!

Plus, it's for ages eight and up, so WCK could play with me. I know she would be super thrilled.

It's an antique from 1990. Prices range from as high as $100 for a pristine, unopened game that you aren't supposed to play with (and what fun is that?) to $15 for games that have a bit of wear. I think my favorite one was this $15 game I saw on Etsy, because the seller is throwing in a free Joe doll. Joe comes with his original jeans and hat, but the seller doesn't know what happened to his shirt.

We all know this is the best $15 I could ever spend.

So if you're a rich Baby Boomer who would like to purchase my Partridge Family game so I can justify purchasing a NKOTB game, please let me know. Shirtless Joe Doll could use a good home.

Happy birthday, WCK!

Today is WCK's eighth birthday, and she told me it was her best birthday ever. She had her drama club play after school, and her drama teacher surprised her with chocolate ice cream and balloons. Then she got to pick where we'd eat dinner, so we went to IHOP for pancakes. Then we came home to discover -- yes -- we have a brand new baby Sea Monkey! How can you top a birthday like this?

"Now I'm ready for some eight-year-old adventures!" she said.

Yeah, me too!

C'mon get happy!

WCK turns eight tomorrow. Every year on her birthday, she asks me to go to the closet and get out the board games that she is old enough to now play "legally." This year is a big year, because both Monopoly and Clue are for ages eight and up. (Don't tell anyone, but I already taught her how to play Monopoly earlier this year, even though she was underage. She totally kicked my butt.)

Last year, however, WCK was a little bit horrified when I could only find one game in the closet for ages seven and up:

This game is actually in our house! Why do I own this game? Why? Why?

I have a vague memory of finding this game at a thrift store in high school or maybe college and thinking it was pretty hilarious. I suppose that is understandable. What I don't really understand is why, after 20 years, a marriage, a child, and at least half a dozen moves, it is still with me. Why did I never get rid of it?

Needless to say, WCK refused to play this. Today when I was in the closet looking at the eight-and-up board games, I decided to pull out the Partridge Family Game and have a look.

Yes, you're really seeing this.

Whoever wrote the instructions either a) had just recently learned to speak English or b) was on drugs.  According to the copyright, the game was made in 1971, which is that vague era between Mad Men and when I was born, so I have absolutely no idea what was going on. Maybe it was a popular pastime to do drugs and then write board game instructions back in 1971. Here is a direct quote from the inside of the box:

As on TV, many happenings occur to the Partridge Family, this game describes one of them. They have finished playing at a local arena and must hurry from there to their BUS to get traveling again. On the way they may have some delays. THE OBJECT OF THE GAME is to be the first member of the Family to reach the Bus.

You roll the dice, and if you land on a "Partridge space", you draw a "Partridge card" and do what it says. For example:

As I looked through the cards, I realized they were, well, extremely sexist. For example, Danny is rewarded for doing all kinds of crazy things:

But don't you hate it when a female tries to use her brain? Move back two spaces, Laurie! In fact, you're out of the band!

Meanwhile, Chris gets rewarded for his big appetite. Eat those pancakes and move forward, Chris!

But Tracy apparently doesn't care that pink lemonade will go straight to her hips! 

You're out of the band, too! And you should have seen this coming, since there isn't even a little game marker with your head on it! True, Chris doesn't have one, either, but he's busy eating his pancakes!

And how does this one even make sense? How can Keith move six spaces closer to the bus if he's in the Grand Canyon? It just goes to show that if you're Keith Partridge, you can do whatever you want:

So why is this game still in my closet after all these years? I have no idea. I'm wondering if it has magical powers. I'm a little scared to get rid of it now. Now I kind of want to see how long it is going to stick around. I'd express more curiosity, but I don't want to have to move back two spaces.