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It's not how you play, it's what you name the game

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By MIKE WINTER

mwinter@tampatrib.com

Published: July 2, 2009

I must be getting old. It seems preposterous. I thought I was still young and healthy. After all, I frequent the gym, drink plenty of fluids, stay out of the sun, get more than four hours of sleep each night. My electrolytes are always in balance. I'm not sure what would happen if they were unbalanced. I assume I would list to one side or the other and walk in circles, and since that almost never happens, I'm pretty sure all is well on that front.

Sometimes I even meditate, blocking out the rest of the world as I clear my mind of clutter. Unfortunately, it tends to coincide with my wife's nightly summary of her day at work, but an accusation that I'm "not even pretending to listen" is a small price to pay for achieving Zenlike oneness with the cosmos.

This isn't to suggest my dedication to physical health is draconian. I occasionally allow myself small indulgences. Sleeping past 7 a.m. on the weekends. Putting off yard work until after the tornado warning has expired. Or sneaking into the kitchen once everyone is asleep and eating an entire box of Ding Dongs, then staging a break-in to divert suspicions.

So it is with great reluctance that I make this admission of creeping decrepitude. But how else can I explain the newest game of pretend my daughter and I play on long afternoons when mom is out and I have to entertain the troops? I came up with it a few weeks ago. It's called, "Daddy's Been Turned to Stone."

The premise is that an evil witch (or dogcatcher, depending on my daughter's mood) has turned me into a solid block of granite. Except for my mouth, which is immune to petrifaction, I am completely immobile. All I can do is lie on the couch offering words of encouragement as my daughter twirls around waving a magic wand (salad spoon), chanting incantations and singing snippets of "The Wonder Pets" theme song to break the spell.

How long I remain immobile depends on how long it takes for her to grow bored and start hammering me with her wand yelling, "I release you!" at the top of her lungs. Usually between five and seven minutes. Then it's on to a rousing game of "Daddy's Been Frozen in Place," "Daddy Is Stuck in Quicksand," "Daddy is Caught in a Web," and finally, "Daddy Has Thrown Out His Back and Needs to Rest Quietly."

It wasn't always like this. Our previous favorite role-playing game was "The Princess Who Got Scooped Up By a Dragon." As you would expect, this involved a great deal of swooping, chasing, scooping and carrying princesses to distant mountain lairs before being vanquished by a water balloon-wielding prince (dragons are cowards once their fires have been doused). It was exhausting work. I had to play the beast, the prince, the mountain and the horse the happy couple rode off on at the end. My knees and lower lumbar were taking a beating.

So now we play more sedate games. I'm not being lazy, I'm just pacing myself. I have to stay spry enough to physically intimidate any future suitors that may pose a threat to my daughter's virtue. I may not be able to play the dragon forever, but she'll always be a princess.

Keyword: Moms, to find out what other games Pop's been up to.

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