[dropcap]M[/dropcap]y nephews and their friends played cards, on the sidewalk. I could tell by they way they fussed at each other they were playing Five Card Draw.
That’s how we entertained ourselves as kids. Poker. We would’ve watched television, but our consoles only picked up two channels. One of which was PBS.
Nobody gave a cuss about PBS and its puppets.
Playing poker teaches you a lot about your friends. Some of mine were bad about paying up debts. My buddy Zip still owes me nearly seven hundred thousand dollars.
That’s why he ignores me on Facebook.
“What are we playing boys?” I butted in.
“Five Card Draw.”
I scoffed. “No, no. This is all wrong. You can’t play Five Card, you’re nearly grown men.”
“So, grown men play Texas Hold’em.”
They stared at me like I was purple.
Thus, I taught them the best game in America. I explained the flop, the turn, and importance of owning a good pair of sunglasses. They were mesmerized. After a few educational rounds, we got down to business.
Uncle Sean won four dollars.
We played again.
I won four more.
We tried another hand.
I won a dollar, and three extra-small T-shirts.
After the fifth win, Uncle Sean used his smartphone to book a room in Biloxi.
Then along came the neighbor-boy’s little sister. She was missing her front teeth. I persuaded the boys to let her play a hand – to be nice. Everybody wants to feel included.
And now she owns my truck.