I didn't play hockey last night

Last night I didn't play hockey. I didn't get the opportunity to release all of the angst and frustration from an otherwise overwhelming, and difficult day. No, I had to stay home and put my kids to bed. I had to read to them. I had to play chess with my daughter. I decided to play a little harder since she is improving, and I want her to learn to lose well and win graciously.

She is my daughter. She is ultra-competitive, just like her father. So I brace her for the concept that she might actually lose to her papa. She basically says, "OK daddy, but then I want to go back to beating you". I think we both like it better that way.

Three moves in my daughter castles, and it occurs to me that fools mate is not only not an option, but that I may have to replace the gerbil with a slightly larger hamster on the wheel that fires the neurons in my brain. We play on. She is tired, unfocused, and adorable. Eventually, I win. She smiles at me. I tell her how proud I am of her, and what a great little chess player she is. She is happy. We play again. She wins.

Hockey is for sissies. My kids rock.