How often do you get to play Monopoply with the very best people?

I absolutely love that my life is filled with family game nights. Regularly, my kids and I find myself playing games like Life, chess, and Monopoly. My reason for this post is not to brag. I know a lot of people do not get the chance, for instance to play Monopoly a whole lot with family. It is one of those games that we all love to play, yet it sits in our game cabinet for years and years without use—just piling on more and more dust until that once-in-a-rare moment when someone pulls it out and plays with it. No, my purpose is not to brag. I am here to share a moment of sadness, then reflect on something I am eternally grateful for. What saddens me is a Saturday night I was playing with my beloved, Becki, and our nine-year-old son Henry. It was about seven at night, and we had just gotten home from a day of running errands and playing tennis. We love playing tennis together on the weekends, and we have been playing more regularly indoors due to the weather. I know my boy, Henry, adores Monopoly. He used to get so angry when he lost, but he has completely adjusted. He now plays with all the enthusiasm and life we should all play boardgames with. He is just so happy to collect money and properties. He does not care about winning anymore. My sadness is that, on this Saturday night, I suddenly did. Becki opened the game by rolling the number that allowed her to snag the first railroad. Yeah, I soon followed with some prime property myself. Henry, as he tends to do, lands on all the Chance and Community chest spots. And the kid does not get punished by bad cards. No, he gets the ones where he wins money–always. The kid is super lucky. As we rolled more and more, Becki got the next railroad. Then she got the next. Another roll and would have grabbed all the railroads on her first go-around. Thankfully, she missed that chance. I was not going to let her get another opportunity. Money running low, I managed to land on the last railroad on the backside of the board on the second go-around. I was having none of this. I know those railroads would bankrupt Henry and myself if Becki got all four. I mean . . . my gosh, they were costly. But, to my frustration, I had spent so much money on high-priced properties that by the time I got to the last railroad, I was short one dollar. I slyly looked at Henry and said, “I’ll trade you one property for $100. We absolutely cannot let your mom get this last railroad. She literally destroy us! Henry, we just cannot have it.” Henry smiled and agreed. “Yeah! She’ll be way too powerful!” The kid quickly slipped me his cash, and I, his property. I quickly grabbed the last railroad, paid, my price, then said, “Wow! That was close.” My beloved was hurt. She, appropriately, did not appreciate the trading that was meant only to thwart her. She stood up and walked away from the table. I instantly felt horrible–as I should have. I rushed after her and apologized. Then apologized more. As I was apologizing, and while she returned to the board, I chastised myself a bit with a note in my head. “Stop playing games with family to win, win, win. Remember all those years you didn’t have this. Remember all those years those games, like Monopoly, sat in the cupboard slowly collecting dust. Realize how much of a great blessing it is to have a kid and loved one to play games with on a Saturday night.” And I will do better with this moving forward. I appreciate the many nights I get to enjoy my time with my family. It should never be about protecting something insignificant in a game. It should be about the privilege of playing that game we all never get enough opportunities to play.