Boggles My Mind

I eyed my opponent with deep suspicion. After all, I had been victorious for the last... oh... dozen matches at least, suddenly, stakes are being discussed, high stakes.  Serious stakes. The field of battle was to be “Boggle”; the game where you make words out of lettered dice. The adversary was my dear, sweet, child-bride; the lovely, the charming, the vocabularily-challenged, Cupcake. The stakes; having to tidy the kitchen, including washing all the dishes that had been accumulating since breakfast. It looked like the aftermath of a Gordon Ramsey show.
“Are you sure you want to do this, honey?” I asked magnanimously. “I know I am the reigning Boggle champ in this house and don’t want to take advantage of you. I am aware your talents lie elsewhere. We could do something we are more even at.... arm wrestling, perhaps.”
“That’s okay,” she breezily replied. “I admit you usually win since “my talents lie elsewhere”, as you diplomatically put it, but I have great confidence I can be triumphant if I pit my talents against yours.” “Game on,” I chortled, grabbing the clear plastic dice container and giving them an enthusiastic shake. I spun the lid into place which forces the 16 die into a neat square four dice across by four dice down and automatically starts the battery-powered timer. The battle had been joined!
The letters were really good ones... it was to be a high word-count round and every second was vital. Amid my concentration, however, I happened to glance up at Cupcake. For some strange reason, she was unbuttoning her nighty.
“Hey!” I blurted out in astonished realization. “That’s not fair! You’re not allowed to distract me like that. That’s... that’s... are you not wearing a bra?”
Cupcake never looked up but continued to feverishly jot down words. I realized I had dishpan hands in my future if I didn’t get cracking but my eyes kept being diverted to her bosom.
You see, the problem is that men are actually hard-wired to appreciate the female figure, especially in the chestal area.  This is hardly news to the billions of women out there who occasionally, and not all I’m sure, use this particular male weakness to further their own agendas. Really! It happens!
Many sociologists maintain that man’s pursuit of beauty is what fuels greed. It is common knowledge that many women are attracted to great, big, thick bulging wallets. This because, to those same sociologists, women aren’t wired for appreciating looks as much as security and status. Multi-billionaire Aristotle Onassis put it best when he said that “Without women, money would become meaningless. “
The media is well aware of men’s fascination with the female form but the messages being sent are mixed. Besides the seemingly thousands of websites dedicated to examples of the fairer gender in various states of undress, there is even a site where women post pictures of their charms to be rated on a scale of 1 to 10. If it is an example of the objectification of women, it certainly appears there are a lot of women who don’t appear to mind. The supply of volunteers seems endless... well, according to a friend who told me about it. As well, if commercials are to be believed, the most desirable women with the most splendid examples of female attributes are attracted to men who drink large amounts of beer. Call me crazy but it has been my experience that this is not the case.
I took another quick peek at Cupcake pulling her nighty aside and then checked out the length of her word list. I still had a chance if I could just focus. It was particularly frustrating because the effectiveness of her ploy is just a one-way street. There is no body part I could flaunt that would have the same effect on her even remotely. The closest I could come would be to unwrap a chocolate bar and wave it seductively in front of her.
I redoubled my efforts at finding words while trying to ignore Cupcake’s heaving cleavage. I vowed not to think of her luscious ample appendages and only focus on the Boggle rack... I mean frame. I wrote like the wind and got some really long, extra-value words.  I may be easy but I’m no push-over.  Finally the timer beeped the end of the match. It was time to tally up our words.
After crossing out all the words we had in common, we counted silently our own scores.
“So... how many did you get?” I asked, my hand covering my total of 38.
“I got 37,” she said proudly.
My victory dance was quickly cut short. Cupcake had yet one more card to play.
“If you do the dishes while I wait for you in bed, I won’t do up my nighty,” she said softly.I was outraged that she would offer such a deal. I was so incensed, I almost didn’t go for it.Stupid hard wiring.