We stopped getting an actual newspaper a while back. While this makes it challenging to find birdcage liners, it has eliminated a lot of hassle. Besides, the quality of the not-so-local local newspaper has decreased in direct proportion to the rate increase. However, since I am addicted to the daily puzzles, particularly Boggle Brainbusters, we kept the online subscription at a fraction of the cost, primarily for my puzzles.
I print out my Boggle Brainbuster puzzle every morning to work at the breakfast table. This puzzle involves linking adjacent letters to make words. The more letters in the word, the more points. The ultimate goal is to get over 150 points. The puzzle also features a bonus section in which certain related words, such as four-letter mammals, bodies of water, numbers, fruits, land formations, etc., are hidden in the grid of letters. Working on this puzzle has become part of my morning ritual. Usually, I have plenty of time to myself to accomplish this task since I’m retired—except on the days Hubby is home.
Mind you, Hubby does not want to print out his own copy of the puzzle and engage in a contest with me. No, he reads my puzzle upside down and points out the bonus words he’s found, which is irritating, as I have my methodical way of going through the puzzle, so I don’t miss words, and I might not get to some of the bonus words until the last row of letters. Have you ever had someone read over your shoulder? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. It distracts me and makes me feel rushed to get the bonus words before he blurts them out. Then, I risk missing obvious connecting words.
This morning, the bonus words were four six-letter country capitals. Generally, I dislike countries and country capitals because I can guarantee there will be some I’ve never heard of. Just as I found “Lisbon,” he said, “London.” Okay, I could have probably found that answer by myself IF HE HAD GIVEN ME THE CHANCE. We both came up with “Berlin” at the same time. But this throws me off going through the puzzle systematically, as the whole point is to have a high score on words, not necessarily to get all the bonus answers. He continued to scan the puzzle, looking for the last six-letter capital while talking it out. “Madrid doesn’t fit. There’s only one ‘D.’ Moscow doesn’t work, there’s no ‘W.’
“Here,” I said, handing him a column from The Epoch Times. “Read this.” It would give him something to do besides obsess over MY puzzle. The column was titled “Seven Tips on Being a Better Spouse.”
“Aren’t I being a good spouse?” he asked, perusing the column. “I’m trying to support you in things you enjoy.”
I gave him THE LOOK.
Then he totally cheated. He got out his phone to look up all six-letter country capitals. “Aha! I’ve got it.”
“Give me a chance to go through all the letters,” I said through gritted teeth while he continued to gloat. “I want to find it on my own.” I worked my way through the grid without coming up with the last capital.
“Okay,” I finally conceded. “I give up.”
“The capital of the Philippines,” he said.
Sure enough, I’d missed “Manila.” Shoot. I might have gotten that one if someone hadn’t been distracting me. But that’s okay because even without Hubby supporting me in activities I enjoy, I got a score of 206, and that’s what really counts—even if I’m not being a good spouse by complaining about his eagerness to help me. I can’t wait until the next time the bonus words are palindromes (words spelled the same backward and forward.) Hubby doesn’t know what a palindrome is and I can work the puzzle without his input.
My hubby will stand behind me when I’m on my computer and read what I’m writing. I do not like that!