“Punch buggy blue!” shouted the Bean from the backseat.
I gave WonderWife™ a curious look and she replied with an expression that read, “So I didn’t tell you but um, yeah we’re doing this now.”
In the weeks that have passed, we’ve been playing Punch Buggy incessantly, though instead of slugging each other on the arm we simply keep score on each car trip. WonderWife™ has proven to be the most adept at the game, able to spot a Bug across the freeway like a hawk tracking a mouse in the desert.
We’ve all gotten pretty competitive too, even young Sprout. Though because of her age and small stature, she is at somewhat of a disadvantage against the rest of us. Playing the game has also taught me something about my son—he’s a cheat.
He likes to call out phantom Bugs, usually right after WW™ has spotted one—the same color too. Though it's pretty easy to tell when he's lying.
“Where?” I challenge after he conveniently spots a Bug that nobody else has seen.
“On the other side of the street, going backwards really fast.”
“I’m going to have to call ‘shenanigans’ on that one, buddy.”
I find myself calling “shenanigans” a lot when I play with the Bean.
My problem lately is that I can’t stop playing the game, even when I’m alone. I notice every single VW Bug on the road and sometimes even call them out. There are a lot of Bugs on the road.
I don’t know when the kids' fervor for playing the game will subside. Even if we try to stop, the Bean continues to call out every punch buggy he sees. So in order to keep him on his toes every once in a while I send him a message, just to let him know that I’m still playing too:
