It’s my month to host the family bunco night. The theme (Little Rhody) has been announced and evites have been sent. I’ve got dinner planned, dessert picked up, winner and loser prizes purchased, and snacks prepared. My house is clean-ish. The only thing left is to await the arrival of the bunco queens.
We’ve been playing since 1996 – a monthly chance for the ladies in the family to get together, roll the dice, and catch up on each other’s lives. We are three generations – my mother and aunties, my sister and cousins, and now my nieces. We have seen each other through weddings, divorces, births, and several high school and college graduations.
Not to mention a lot of milestone birthdays, often celebrated with a mystery day or a surprise at the bunco night closest to said birthday. Last year, when my niece Allison turned 16, we gave her “Sixteen Sweets” – a giant basket full of cookies, candy and other assorted treats. She loved it!
There were times over the past twenty years, when I didn’t love our bunco nights. When it felt like an obligation to give up a Friday night. But as time has gone on, I have come to appreciate the time with my crazy family. We all have our quirks, but it’s what makes us who we are. And we support each other – no matter what.
Bunco nights are loud and silly and generally include a mid-game dance break, as well as an impromptu Broadway sing-a-long. (Brooklyn’s here!) They are exactly what I need at the end of a long week. I can count on my bunco queens to shake me out of whatever funk I’m in and get me laughing. And usually singing.
We joke that the only way to quit bunco is if you’re dead. But honestly, I wouldn’t quit if given the chance. We took a vote once about whether to give up bunco, but it didn’t pass. After all, as my cousin Jamie would say, “You don’t HAVE to come to bunco. You GET to come to bunco.”