Dad and I were playing Monopoly. He landed on “Income Tax”. Exhaling fiercely, he slammed $200 on the board.
“I just landed there two minutes ago,” he muttered.
Time passed, and he went to jail – for the third time.
“It’s okay Dad,” I said as I passed Go and collected my $200.
“No. It’s. NOT.” He yanked the board from the table, eyes bulging, nostrils flaring and face red as a tomato. The board became a weapon of mass destruction. Money filled the air, houses and hotels scattered across the floor. He stormed out of the room.
“I guess I win again.” I whispered.