Car Games

In case you were wondering how two people keep from going insane with three obnoxious kids and a smelly dachshund in the back seat while they pull a trailer around rural America, one way is to play car games. Sadly, the only car game our family plays is Zip. The rules are thus: You cannot not play Zip. Getting in the car with any member of our family is consenting to play Zip. You can think you are choosing not to play, but really, you are just conceding that you've lost. Playing Zip is easy. Every time you see a horse, you must be the first one to say Zip. You want to be the person with the most Zips at the end of the car ride. If you see more than two horses at a time, you may say "Blanket Zip" and one of your opponents must count the horses. If you are said opponent, you may think of cheating--saying there are only 23 when there were really 28 horses;--do not cheat. My dad will know. I don't know how, but he will, and you don't want to be caught cheating at Zip or you will be in for years of public ridicule. That being said, there are always ways to finesse the rules. You may make up a bullshit rule like "white horses count for 10" or "donkeys count for 1/2" and if those rules go unchallenged, you may keep score that way. Those are not actually the rules. White horses count for 1 just like any other horses and donkeys don't count at all. Making jokes about mules resembling your mother-in-law will get you slapped. Otherwise, there is no violence in Zip. You may also "neglect" to tell your opponents that you've taken this route before and thus know where all the horses are. This may, however, also get you smacked, but it is not condoned by the rules. Anyway, before my grandma died, I went up to my parents and then drove over with my dad to see her. It was a beautiful day and so we decided not to take the interstate (who wants to drive I-80 to the Indiana border if they don't have to?) but to meander through Indiana. Of course, we were half-heartedly playing Zip. I was winning, and gloating, a little, when my dad said that he needed to stop at a Walmart in the next town. Feeling cocky, I decide to break my rule about going to Walmart with him, and agree. We pull in and he says, "I think I feel something weird with the front tire. Go around back and see if the tire service can get us in to look at it." I don't feel anything strange, but it's his van. And when I pull around to the back side of the Walmart, he shouts triumphantly "Blanket Zip" and there, in front of us, are a hundred Amish carriages with at least one horse a piece. He looks over at me, smiling devilishly "Do you want to get out and count them?" "No, Dad, you can just win."