Sammi: "Daddy? Can we play Dice Fight?"
Me: "Sure. What's Dice Fight?"
Sammi: "It's a really, really fun game that I just now invented."
Me (sitting down on the floor next to her): "Sounds great! How do you play?"
Sammi: "Oh, it's easy! Let's just start playing. You'll catch on."
Sammi pulled out a lopsided cardboard cube that was held together by lots of scotch tape. She had drawn the 'dice dots' on the cube so it made a perfect home-made die.
Sammi: "First we roll to see who goes first."
I rolled a five and Sammi rolled a four.
Sammi: "I got a four! I go first!"
Me: "So... The highest number doesn't go first?"
Sammi: "Not this time."
Sammi (rolling her eyes): "Because I got a four. That's why."
Sammi rolled again: "Awesome - I rolled a two! You know what that means?"
Me: "Uhhh... No."
Sammi: "DICE FIGHT!"
With a terrifying scream, Sammi lunged at me - punching, kicking, spinning and laughing. Bruce Lee, on his best day, never landed as many punches as my daughter did in that moment. I started laughing and held her down and started tickling her.
Sammi: "No tickling allowed Daddy! You lose your turn."
Me: "Oh, okay. Sorry."
Sammi: "That's okay - you just need to follow the rules."
Me: "But I don't know the..."
Sammi (cutting me off): "Oh cool- I rolled a four! You know what that means?"
Me: "I don't know - what?"
Sammi: "DICE FIGHT!!!"
Sammi flew at me again. She looked like the Tasmanian Devil from the old Loony Tunes cartoons - spinning, kicking and punching. I felt like I was on a blind date with Chris Brown.
After a few minutes of fighting and wrestling and laughing, Sammi declared that it was now my turn. I rolled the die and got a six.
Me: "Hey, hey, hey! Look at that! I got a six!"
Sammi (shaking her head): "Sorry Daddy. That means you lose a turn."
Me: "Lose my turn? Just because I rolled a six?"
Sammi (snatching the die from my hand): "Duh!"
Sammi: "Ooooh... I just rolled a one - you know what that means???"
Me: "Dice fight?"
Sammi (laughing): "No silly! It means - FREE TUMMY PUNCH!!!"
Sammi swung as hard as she could at my stomach. Unfortunately, her aim was a few inches too low and her little fist connected to my 'mommy-daddy buttons' like Rocky Balboa hitting a side of frozen beef...
As I crumpled to the floor and curled into the fetal position, my sweet little daughter laughed at me and jumped up.
Sammi (stepping over my crumpled body): "I win!!! That was sooo much fun! I'm gonna go get a snack and then we can play again - okay Daddy?"
Me (trying to remain conscious): "...ok sweetie..."