There is an off-label use for Candyland. Like so many for-profit pharmaceutical concoctions, the child’s board game is only a façade. The off-label uses prevail, and drive real profits.
“If only I’d drawn plum, earlier in the game, I might have not lost my kids,” one user lamented. Yes, Candyland is widely used to determine custody rights. So, you can be a parent for 10 years without question, but once entered into divorce court, a date with Candyland could be your instant demise. Determinations on your parental abilities come from a 20-minute observation period. You, kids and Candyland.
Never mind my daughter does manic cartwheels in the small enclosed room when she wins, sending a crack spidering up the 2-way mirror. I’m more concerned about my son who just lost to Queen Ice Cream. In a fit of unabashed rage, he has upended the board and is gritting his teeth and growling like a coyote. My other son, who also lost, has decided to fan the remaining cards around the tiny room, creating a multitude of games of 52-pickup for the evaluator. My parenting skills based on this display? F-. That’s a fail.
This date, sounding so sweet like candy, has ended in the tragic loss of my children for life. Until they’re 18. When they may vaguely remember this ridiculous game and the fate it delivered.
Dating etiquette tip: don’t accept candy from strangers. Especially when it’s a court date!