“Mom, can I…”

“Mom, can I…”

“…have…”

“…have…”

“… some-ICE-CREAM?!” (Shrieked in perfect unison.)

“JINX!!”

Don’t let me understate it. Imagine the latter screamed at a decibel that rivals a bomb going off in a bathroom stall. I mean, the competition couldn’t possibly be as effective if verbalized in a tone conducive to the hearing of the rest of the world, now could it?

Let me introduce you to the world’s most annoying game… in stereo. Recite these words along with me and I’ll show you how it’s done…

“Say…what… I… say…”

“JINX!!”

It’s really as annoying as that.

Now for some of you, any acoustic device that comes in stereo (surround sound, at that) might be considered an attractive feature. That’s because you don’t have twin ten-year-old boys with an obsessive-compulsive addiction to the “Jinx” game. Call me the Mother-of-all-party-poopers, but this game’s only slightly less hazardous than Russian roulette. Cock another noun or verb in that chamber and odds have it, mommy’s head will blow off.

Apparently, the aim of the game is to say something in unison with another person and be the first to yell ‘JINX!’, thus putting a hex on your dialoguing rival that can only be lifted by uttering that person’s name three times. In the meantime, your rival has been rendered mute. Now normally, having one of two screeching children muted, even momentarily, would be considered a good thing. In fact, a fabulously wonderful, extraordinarily favorable, historically significant, good thing.

Instead, take into consideration the ends to which a ten-year-old will go in order to get his poor, bedraggled mother to utter his name three times. Putting expletives and appeals to the heavens aside, it doesn’t take much. And therein lies the problem. Release the detainee in a series of hysterical reprimands… (eg. Indi get down! Indi get down! Indigo Arie de Bruin! … get off that table NOW!) and you’re back to the never ending banter of ‘who’s jinxing who?’

Did I mention I’m getting annoyed?

That being said, and fully appreciating the strategic advantage one might gain from this exercise, I decide to apply the game to my own miserable existence. “Imagine…” I conspire to myself, “…having the power to mute anyone at will!”

And so I lie in wait for my husband. I anticipate his every thought and move. I scrutinize his face and his features for the most subtle nuances and then, Boom! like that cannon in the bathroom stall, it’s here! I know exactly what he’s going to say…

“Arlena!” his face is contorted in a shaving creamed scowl, “Did you…”

“…use my razor again?!” I nail him in perfect unison, then follow-up with a clear and resounding…

“JINX!”

“Huh?” He shakes a bloody jaw.

“Eh-eh-eh! You’re not allowed to talk. If you get ‘Jinxed’, you’re muted until someone utters your name three times.”

“Ah-huh.”

“Eh!” I wiggle the finger of doom. “Abide by the rules.”

I slide out the bathroom and down the hallway. The power is intoxicating, exhilarating. I check my watch. I just saved myself a ten-minute dissertation on the complexities of a smooth, hackless shave. My mind is a whirlwind of muting ideas. Can you imagine? The possibilities are endless…

Husband’s getting on your nerves? JINX! Don’t like your best friend’s advice? JINX! Mother-in-law’s wearing you down? JINX! Boss is on your back? JINX! Think your politician’s full of…….. JINX!

Ha! I called you first!