It’s my fault, really.
A few years ago, I introduced the staff at my church to “the nose game.” I did it because I knew the rules, and they didn’t . . . so I easily won. The rules are simple. Someone throws out an idea, and needs someone to volunteer to do something, or take charge of something. I immediately touch my nose and say “nose game.” The last one at the table to touch their own nose is then designated as the volunteer. It’s simple, it’s beautiful, and there can be no arguments, because as in the old Highlander series . . . there can be only one. (person who touches his/her nose last)
Of course, I don’t claim to have invented the nose game, or it’s variation– “thumbs up for saying grace”. But I’m usually darn good at it. Usually.
Today, I failed to observe the first tenent of successful nose game play. I didn’t pay attention. So by the time the nose game had begun–started by one of those staff members who had learned the game from me– it was too late. I was (gulp) last.
Et tu, Grasshopper?
It is finished. I now have to write the cover article for this month’s church newsletter. Deadline is noon tomorrow. Lovely. That doesn’t leave me a whole lot of procrastination time. Just enough to complain here.
-MH
- Nose game gone terribly wrong
