Making Diamonds

It's been suggested that I am somewhat anal.

Not that I'm gay.

Nor that there's anything wrong with being gay.

I'm just not gay.

But I digress. The point here is that unlike most mortals of the male persuasion (gay or not) I tend to like everything to have a place, and all places to have their thing. I also like them reasonably well dusted and somewhat backlit to show them off at their best angle to the casual observer.

Sunday, Lil, Justice and I sat down to play a new game we'd picked up called Munchkin. Lil's sister, Isabella, brought it with her on a visit a few years back and we quite liked it. One of the aspects of the game requires for markers or counters of some kind that aren't included with the game (cheep bastards). Fortunately, this is hardly a problem for us, since I maintain a couple of bookends that were in a past life Paul Mason wine carafes. I used spare change from my pockets to fill these carafes, in one I put my silver coins and in the other the copper pennies. The finished product looks, at least to me, quite nice.

So, to play Munchkin, I grabbed my penny bookend, and poured out enough for each of us to have the requisite ten markers. I set the carafe down, then glanced at it, and something caught my eye.

There were two silver coins in with the the pennies.

I almost poured out the entire contents to remove the offending denominations. Almost.

Then I realized that was a bit too anal and tried to play off my momentary panic as a stretch. Lil apparently has wisdom beyond her years.

"I probably put them in there," she soothed. "Sorry."

"No, no," I replied. "It's ok. It's not a big deal, and it was probably my fault."

Seriously, we were discussing whose "fault" it was that two or three silver coins got into the penny carafe.

I think I need help. Some kind of twelve-step program that involves heavy doses of gin. If you find that retreat, kindly send it my way.