Let’s Play a Game of “Would you Rather?”

The kids are all playing “Would You Rather”. If you haven’t heard what this game is about, maybe it is for the best.

It is a fact that Tweens have always relished being cruel to their friends, and seemingly endless of ways come up with some pretty sick-ass games. Nowadays they are playing a new version of an old favourite. Do you remember “Truth or Dare” games behind the school bleachers? Memories of playing it still makes my blood run cold from all the viscous dares and gut wrenching truths.

The new game is, in my view, is a bit gentler than its predecessor. Also it is somewhat less likely to end with your kid upside down in a trash can with a squealing rat trying to escape her tank top. So maybe that is something at least, but it can still be nasty.

The “would you rather” game is about making impossible choices. My tween boy was playing it with his friends, and I made the colossal misjudgment of listening as I passed his room. The options these kids come up with are almost always gross, and by gross I mean the single most disgusting thing they can imagine. Which is, after all that is the point of the game. Gag worthy shit and who can win it with the worst imagery. In this particular round of the game, one buck toothed runty kid was asking the question. His options were: “Would you rather suck out the pus from your sister’s ass boil or rub hot peppers on your balls?” Um… seriously Marvin, this is what you think about? I didn’t stick around for the answer.

I got to thinking about what I would come up with in a game of “Would you Rather” with my Mom Squad friends. First we would need to set the stage for our game by having a few glasses of liquid honesty, and then flip for who gets the first question.

In my mind, the questions would go something like this:

The first out of the gate would be the slightly frazzled mom with way too many children: “Would you rather just give him a blow job and sleep or listen to stories about his bad day at work?” Hmm. Good question Gwen.

The next Mom has been thinking about it and shouts “OH OH, I have one!!. This girl is cute because she likes to hang out with her slightly cooler and more bad ass friends, but really, she is just the sweet dopey chick named Tippy that always shows up with baked goods. Every group has one, the Mascot Mom. Her question is: ” Would you rather use soy milk or almond milk in your Chai tea”. The rest of us roll our eyes and send her to refill our glasses.

Then the heavy hitters take their turns: The part-time suburban mom, part-time roller derby warrior has this to ask: “Would you rather set off an incendiary device at the next PTA meeting at your kid’s school, or would you just punch the Queen Bee in the twat?” This one took a bit of consideration, because all of us being honest, we would do both.

The skinny runner Mom is smiling because it is now her turn. She grins with anticipation because she knows her question will be the most gag worthy. “Would you rather sleep face down in my post-marathon underwear or have me show you what is left of my bleeding cracked runner nipples?” Ok, she had us at the funk pillow, we are all a little gaggy now. Reload the drinks Tippy.

Then the oldest of us. An irascible senior member of the Mom squad sits up in her barcalounger, burps and has Tippy bring her a glass of the good stuff. We can see she is contemplating the end game question. We wait with anticipation, and gird our stomachs for what is coming. We know the impossible choice is about to be laid upon us. She readies herself to speak, while looking each of us deep in the eyes to our souls.

“Would you rather spend two weeks alone with your mother in law wallpapering her house, or spend three days hand cleaning a septic system?”

The room falls apart with the sheer unmerciful wickedness of these choices… how could she make us pick one or the other!? Tippy faints, Gwen is now crying in the corner, and derby girl is skating in circles swearing.

Game over, and as the man says:

“Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance.”

Quote by David Memet