Everett, Chess, and Sit-ups

Everett loves games.  He will play any kind of game, any time, with anyone.  He loves to win, but he has learned to accept defeat.

Joel and I gave Everett monopoly junior for Christmas.  He was excited to play it, but when Ashley volunteered to join the game, he became indignantly opposed to her participation.  "The box says age 6 and up!"  Everett insisted.  "Ashley is only five.  She can't play this game."

We reasoned with him, but he just grew hotter and hotter under the collar.  

Ashley didn't bother arguing with him.  She is used to waiting for Everett's heat to simmer itself out.  After a minute or two, and a little more reasoning from us, Everett came to terms with the fact that his kid sister was going to play and we all played an enjoyable game.

Everett is fun to play games with.  Everything that happens in a game is a very big deal to him.  He is so excitable, he often can't help himself from reaching out to hand the other players their cards during their turns.  He bounces up and down in his seat and his voice rises with each letdown or triumph or moment of tingly anticipation.

Everett enjoyed Monopoly Junior so much that he was determined to play the regular version of the game he found tucked away in our basement.  He asked Joel and me for days until we finally had the time to invest (Why does that game take so very long?) and agreed to try it out with him.  We spent well over two hours playing this game.  Everett's exuberance never waned; boredom never crept into his eyes; his bottom rarely even touched the seat of his chair.

We finally had to end the game so we could have dinner and pay attention to our other children.  After those two hours, Everett groggily returned to his non-monopoly existence like someone reaching out of a stupor.

So it is interesting that with all of his very vocal enthusiasm, Everett has taken a liking to Chess, the ultimate (quiet) gentleman's game.

Everett would play this game every day if he could.  Unfortunately, none of his siblings are very interested and his mother doesn't always have time to sit and mull over chess strategies.  Everett has only beaten someone (me) once, during an instructive game in which I had him redo many moves in order to teach him better observation and strategy.

But he keeps returning to the game.  I think he enjoys the challenge.  Everett loves overcoming challenge--when he does, the endorphins floating around him are almost tangible.

A few nights ago, I challenged the kids to see how many sit-ups they could do.  Ashley struggled with them, but got the hang of it.  Everett, however, was a machine.  He cranked out thirty of them without even breaking a sweat.  Joel even did a few less than he thought he could.  I did not even attempt them.

So tonight I challenged the kids again.  Ashley made it to fifteen and was happy to stop.  Everett wanted to make it to sixty so he could double his previous amount.  

He made it to sixty, then grinned at me.  "Mom," he said, "I'm going to make it to one hundred."  I laughed (because I'm super supportive like that) and encouraged him to try.  Did I think he could do it?  No way!  But I was thrilled to see him excited about it.

Everett reached one hundred sit-ups.  As soon as he did, the familiar twinkle reappeared in his eyes.  :Mom, I'm going to go to one hundred and ten!"  

"Go for it, buddy!"  I said.

Ten more sit-ups later, Everett collapsed on the floor, beaming with pride.  I congratulated him and asked if he wanted to call Joel, who was out of town.

"Papa!"  Everett said, "I did one hundred and ten sit-ups today!"  Joel said something I couldn't quite hear, to which Everett said, "Yeah, one hundred and ten, really!  Do you think you could do one hundred and ten sit ups?"

"Yeah, I could do one hundred and ten," Joel said, a little too nonchalantly, it seemed.  

Everett was skeptical.  "Then why was your face so red last time when you just did thirty?  Like, it was really red."  His eyebrows raised, he cocked his head to one side, and his hand gestured out in demonstration of his skepticism.

I didn't hear Joel's reply due to my explosive laughter, but I imagine he was laughing, too.