Probe, (n):
a parlor game introduced in the 1960s by Parker Brothers. It is reminiscent of the simple two-person game Hangman, whose object is to guess a word chosen by another player
by revealing specific letters. Probe extends the number of players to a maximum
of four and introduces additional game elements that increase the levels of
both skill and chance. Like Hangman, each player has a secret chosen word. But
unlike Hangman, the game ends when the last word, not the first word, is
revealed. All players remain in the game until the end.
Enough background . . .
My Father-In-Law, Ray (hereinafter
known as Dad), loved games. But one of his favourites was the game of Probe. He
loved the challenge of guessing his fellow players’ words.
And he really loved the
challenge of coming up with nasty, horrible, very, very difficult words.
Particularly words
containing letter such as ‘Z’ or ‘X’ or ‘Q’ or ‘K’.
Or multiples of the
same.
Sneaky devil . . .
Dad loved this part of
the game so much that he kept a list of words he encountered.
I am not making this
up.
In his breast pocket,
he kept a list of words he had read or heard that would surely stump his
opponents in future games of Probe.
Such words as: acquire (a ‘c’ and a ‘q’? Come on!!!). Galax (wha . . .?). Abuzz (took us a while with that one!). Katharometer (okay, now you’re just making stuff up . . .).
Ugh.
So while I was
composing such stumpers as rhododendron,
he was crafting masterpieces like: xenophobia.
Now how do you compete with that?
It got so that, when any
of us sat down to play the game with him, we’d see that list come out, and hear
the distant drums that signalled our impending doom.
Sigh.
But my Mother-In-Law beat
him.
Okay, I don’t mean
actually ‘beat’ him, although there were times (Particularly when he dipped
into that pocket and emerged with that list) . . .
No. I mean that she
fixed him and his little list of stinkers for good.
And she wasn’t even
playing the game.
How? You ask as you
prepare to play your own game and are looking for an edge . . .
Simple. She waited for
laundry day and washed his list.
When he complained long
and loud about her actions, she snickered and said, “Well, they were dirty
words. I just had to clean them up!”
Of course she claimed
forevermore that it really was an accident. And that she’d never actually meant
to do it.
But we knew.
She was simply getting
payback for trying to guess such posers as: zomotherapy.
And: quadriform.
Yep. We knew.
Genius.
