There are a few traditions in our family, some of which might have passed into obscurity. One such tradition, which was discussed again at the weekend, was the traditional Christmas Eve game of Monopoly between my brother and I. This was the only time of the year that he would play the game with me, and we would sit down with a large quantity of food for rather a long game. Mum always declined to play, but would sit nearby to listen, and if possible fend off any arguments that erupted.
The game was always played in the same way, buying streets, hotels and houses as soon as possible. Mayfair and Park Lane were always the prime buying targets, but we were not so fussy so long as we had lots of sets of colours and the means to build massive housing and hotel empires. I was always partial to buying Old Kent Road and Whitechapel. They might be small fry for basic rent, but get a couple of hotels on, and they become quite vicious.
The game would normally reach a crisis point when we were forced to make a deal to get a set and I inevitably lost on the deal, which would start the bad language. Monopoly is not a game that I should play around small children. Proceedings ended when we had both manged to get the board in such a state that only income tax squares were safe and that landing on the wrong square was lethal. The one year that my OH played with us, we wiped the floor with him. He hoarded his money, only buying certain roads and then had to play a precarious dice rolling game, which ended quickly.
We haven't played for years, but my sister-in-law informed me that she has a nice copy of the new version, which we might dust off in a couple of weeks time!
Love Elliefantasy xx
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