Terrible Parents
Aren’t family games the best way to get to know your kids? Who’s unethical, who’s a sore loser (or winner), who will cry, who will yell, who is a good liar, who freezes under pressure? Tournament Uno, High Stakes Charades, and No Limit Monopoly are great ways to explore character traits and deficiencies, as well as group dynamics. With four children in middle school, we think we’ve got them all pegged by now, but they still surprise us sometimes. There are probably scientific experiments that could use game behavior data to predict their future outcomes, like the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment, but I like to just take a wild guess.
That brings us to the best two player game ever, one that can only happen after the kids are in bed – no, not that game. But like the game you just fantasized about for a split second, I’ll deny this one’s existence to my dying breath. But I’ve “heard about it” (wink, wink). Purely hypothetically, I’ll explain exactly how this game might go, if my parenting partner in crime and I were to play it and if we were to use our very own darling offspring as the pawns in this sordid little secret.
We would call it Terrible Parents – not super original, but it gets the point across way more clearly than “Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza.” The concept is not entirely original either, it’s a straight rip off from the adult party game called “Bad People.” The game is hilarious and ego crushing to play with a group of adult friends. If you like to judge people and can take a joke, you’ll laugh until you pee your pants. If you are insecure or slightly nice, this game is not for you. There is a deck of cards that poses thought provoking, deep questions such as “whose funeral will have the smallest attendance?” “most likely to steal from their employer?” or “most likely to have sex with a homeless guy because they thought he was a hipster.” You then vote for your pick of friends as the worst of the worst.
My man, Champ, and I would, if we were indeed Terrible Parents, have adapted this game to play using anyone under the age of eighteen in our household. We’re pretty lucky with four kids, all of whom have very distinctive personalities, and there’s a good chance at least one of them will check every box in the Bad People deck at some point in their lifetime. But if you’re lacking in your own offspring, you could throw in a few of their friends, nieces and nephews, or any other unsuspecting children you cross paths with as potential answers. Since we worry slightly about things like self esteem and lifelong complex trauma, we would only play this non-existent game when they were not around.
So, let’s say this game did exist and we did play, I would imagine it would go something (exactly) like this: We throw out a cringe worthy scenario and both decide which kid fits the bill. Even though only the most likely perpetrator needs to be picked, we’re overachievers, so we usually rank them all, or at least first and last. It is horrifying how often we agree upon the answers, as this cross validation really lends weight to these less than ideal future predictions. If we’re feeling uninspired, we might actually use the game cards, but our combined years of being, knowing, and raising humans have prepared us well to generate a well-rounded organic list of worst case scenarios and parental nightmares.
Most likely to be class President? Slam dunk, #3. But some answers incur a debate and require supporting evidence. For example, I believe this same kid would be the most likely to fake an orgasm, though not out of deception, she’s just very enthusiastic. At an amusement park, she uses all of her excitement up in the line, and is over it, cranky, and ready for the next thing before we get to the ride. She’d fall for a pyramid scheme (gullible), borrow things with no intention of returning them (wily), and is most likely to get upset by playing this game (oh, sweet, sensitive soul). On a positive note, she’d give up her seat to an elderly person on a bus, and will probably host the future family get togethers.
#2 is most likely to lie on his resume (if he could get away with it) and most likely to fart and blame it on someone else. To be fair, he’s also the one I’d call if I needed help burying a dead body. He’s not always the most honest, but he’s quite loyal (and #3 would rat me out in a heartbeat). He’d both be the biggest liability after eating a pot brownie (it’s the straight laced ones that are trouble), and the most likely to run a meth lab, but the scientific, profitable kind, not the bathtub-personal-use type. He’d be a terrible reality TV star or phone sex operator for the same reason he’d get the least laughs as a stand up comedian. That same stoic quality makes him the best to tell a secret to, and the least likely to dance on a bar or have the most divorces.
Due to her big fish in a small pond social persona, #1 would rise to prison gang leader if she were incarcerated, but is pretty low down the list when it comes to actually ending up in the clink. She’d take the longest to be reported missing to the police, as evidenced by the time her bus didn’t make it home from school and we didn’t notice until dinner. She’s most likely to have “unconventional” lovers in the future, but also probably won’t ever appear naked on the internet. I wouldn’t trust her with a newborn or count on her to change our diapers in old age either, but I don’t see her sneaking out of the house or overstaying her welcome once she ages out. But she might live in a shed in the backyard.
#4, the chronological youngest, will be the first to lose her virginity (not youngest, first. There’s a difference.) Champ answered that one with frightening speed. He’s not wrong. In all likelihood, she’ll get the cops called to our house, fail a college class, and date a drummer. But she’ll also probably grow out of it and marry well, run the carpools and the charity events, and stay skinny. She’s the one that I’d send to panhandle for money if we were really desperate, and also the most likely to give it to someone else.
Some are tough to decide. Who would be easiest to kidnap? Tie game, #3 and #4 would both hop in a panel van with anyone promising cotton candy and a good time. Who’ll be the first in handcuffs? By a cop, or dressed as a cop? The details matter. Who will be most successful? It depends on the definition of success. Financial achievement? The dependable, hardworking, but slightly deceptive #2. Happiness? The girls who got in the van and had babies (assuming those two events are completely unrelated). A life without regrets? #1, though any of the others would have deep regrets if they found themselves in her future shoes.
As you can imagine, this game inspires some really fun conversation and some ugly nightmares. It also serves as an inoculation against the shocks that will eventually come, because really, we saw it coming. And by comparison, the little gaffs of the future might feel less awful (at least we just found porn, not found them in a porn).
The most important disclaimer is that this game is horrible and you have to trust your true mindmeld with your partner if you want to avoid punching them in the face. Or if you just dislike your kids, it’s probably fine. It can help you see the little ones from a different perspective, but you also may get pissed when the other player points out the flaws in your favorite. It should definitely be banned for blended families. But if you like living on the edge and seeing just how uncomfortable a Tuesday night can get, try it out.
All in all, Terrible Parents is the best game you probably shouldn’t play. I know I never would.
