The Silent Game

November 12, 2012 by The Minnesota Farm Woman

My mother reminded me today about a family game we used to play. This was a game invented by my dad, and for some reason, we only played it on car trips or when he was listening to the Minnesota Twins on the radio. He called this game The Silent Game, and it was invented out of necessity. Dad was a teacher and therefore, off every summer. We had many wonderful family vacations travelling all over the northern United States in a station wagon and sleeping in our tent every night. My sister and I, being about 2 1/2 years apart, tended to bicker about almost everything. Mom would try to get us to sing songs, count telephone poles, or play “I Spy”. Nothing would work until Dad’s deep voice would announce The Silent Game. We would immediately become quiet, wiggling in our anticipation of who would win and trying very, very hard not to be the first one to break the silence. I wish I could tell you that I was often the winner because I was older and (so I thought) wiser, but I was more often the loser. Even more than I love a good sisterly competition, I love to talk. My sister is less talkative than I, preferring quiet conversation with family or close friends. Me? I can talk to a rock. A rock, a person, a chicken, a Chihuahua, and anyone else who will listen. I can talk on the phone for hours, and now that I have the technology to “chat” on the computer, my fingers do the talking every evening. Because the art of conversation means it goes both ways, I hope that I am a good listener, too. As we all know, opposites do indeed attract, so I married a quiet man. He does not like to chat. He is sometimes monosyllabic. He is the epitome of the strong silent type. Not long ago, he was in a golf tournament with one of my coworkers. I told the guy that hubby was a great golfer but didn’t talk much. The next day he told me that the two of them talked through the whole game, and he dared to suggest that the reason my husband doesn’t talk is because he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in Florida of getting a word in edgewise. Very funny, that one. I played The Silent Game with my own daughter, whose love for talking is much like my own. It doesn’t seem to work as well with just one child, though. There’s something about the spirit of competition that keeps The Silent Game going for quite a while. Unfortunately, it should come with a warning sticker. Before you know it, those wonderfully happy noises of children chattering, laughing, and even bickering is gone. Blink your eyes and they’re grown and living on their own. That, my friends, is when you start talking to rocks, chickens, and Chihuahuas, because the sound of a silent house can be the loudest noise of all.

Posted in Uncategorized | 13 Comments

13 Responses

on November 12, 2012 at 7:06 am | Reply winebeforefive

Beautiful words, Chris. And you can talk to me anytime… 🙂

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- on November 12, 2012 at 5:30 pm | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  Thank you!
  Chris
  
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on November 12, 2012 at 9:14 am | Reply Allison

Mom used to tell me that if I was kidnapped that they would return me because I would talk to anything, anytime, and right through the duct tape they’d use! (I had asked about that thanks to TV)

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- on November 12, 2012 at 5:31 pm | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  Allison, even though we are not related by blood, we are two of a kind! :o)
  Love, me
  
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on November 12, 2012 at 10:52 am | Reply bringmemycoffee

What a wonderful story, and a bittersweet one. We had our kids (4 of them) over a 12 year timespan, and got a late start at that. We still enjoy a houseful of kids (currently 3 of my own and a lovely 17 year old daughter who was “gifted” to us for her senior year of high school). The happiest moments here for Grumpy and me are those when the walls swell to include several extra kids. Those extra giggles, hollers and snickers warm our heart. Your tale is a reminder to us to enjoy these days while they last. With any luck we’ll be able to stretch them out until the grandkids start coming! 🙂

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- on November 12, 2012 at 5:30 pm | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  Enjoy those lovely noisy days (and nights). Thanks for reading!
  Chris
  
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on November 12, 2012 at 11:42 am | Reply michellelintvedt

I love it!!! I played this with Kindergartners often!! I suppose I played it with my own children but I don’t think it ever lasted very long. We are ALL talkers in this family. Hence as each left the nest it got quieter and quieter. So I can relate completely with the noise of silence!

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on November 12, 2012 at 11:44 am | Reply michellelintvedt

I can totally relate as I used the game with my Kindergarteners on many occasions. Giggles were hard to stifle, however. I’m sure I used it with my own kids as well as we are a noisy bunch and love to talk. But as you wrote, with each exit from the nest it got quieter and quieter and now I often hear the “noise” of silence. It can be deafening!

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- on November 12, 2012 at 5:28 pm | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  Thanks for reading, Michelle!
  Chris
  
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on November 12, 2012 at 6:22 pm | Reply jana

You know what? I talk to anything even if i get no answer. It is usually the tv or the poor dog in my house. There is no hubby anymore and the kids are grown and gone. So i catch myself commenting to the programs i watch.Sometimes i ask myself if i’m nuts or what and the dog will grunt in agreement. lol. jana

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- on November 13, 2012 at 4:40 am | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  Hahahaha! Thanks for reading, Jana!
  Chris
  
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on November 13, 2012 at 8:57 am | Reply pixilated2

Chris, I had to laugh when I read this, because so much of it is familiar! I remember the noisy road trips we took as children, and I used the Silent Game in my classroom. Now that I am retired I recognize that sound of silence and talking to the critters and my garden! In class I valued the silent times, now… not so much. 😉
Lynda

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- on November 13, 2012 at 4:58 pm | Reply The Minnesota Farm Woman
  
  :o)! Thanks for reading, Lynda!
  Chris
  
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