Or so I'm told. In my case, four queens beat a full house.
After a lovely evening spent with wonderful friends and family and having been up since one a.m., my dad and I dragged our tired carcasses into my aunt's house at nearly 10:30 last night. Bushed and beat, we planned to play maybe a few hands of poker and call it a night.
Gathered around the table, with our usual banter and bluffing, we played. And played. And played. Until the sun came up this morning. Isn't it funny that when you are with ones that you enjoy and having a splendid time, the hours seem to fly by? An hour spent playing poker with the family slips into another hour, and before we know it, we have spent the better half of a day or so around the table, trading jabs and compliments and fake sympathy and stories. Oh, the stories. The later the night gets, the funnier the stories, many told about my dear grandfather and his brothers who are no longer among us, but who relished a good poker game as much as anyone I've seen. If there is a heaven, they are up there fishing during the day and playing poker at night.
My poor cousin Coby, bless his heart, had a less-than-spectacular round or two last night. Even when he got a good hand, somebody (many times me) had a better hand. The guy just couldn't seem to get a break. But he wound up breaking mostly even at the end, as most of us did. Some of the winning hands were beauts, my four queens for example. My grandmother was one card away from a royal flush, and took advantage of her bluffing techniques to scare us away from the pot. As usual, it worked for her; she really had us going for a time. Full houses, straights, and trips seemed to be the order of the night, along with good music and laughter. There is no time I enjoy my family more than around the poker table. And, as you might have guessed already, it's not really about the cards, although you gotta love drawing to a four of a kind. It's about the people holding them.