Last night I did my best to teach my daughter, Ella, how to shuffle a deck of cards. I don’t think I realized how much coordination is involved until trying to explain the process. Although not disastrous, the first results were of a rather mixed variety with cards inevitably ending up facing different directions or getting flung everywhere onto the floor. By a few hands she had a pretty serviceable shuffle going and had already reached the limits of what I could teach her.
Getting my hat handed to me with games like “Duck, Duck Bruce” and “Rat a Tat Cat” is to be expected when playing Ella. Amidst all the laughing and silliness, the cards being shuffled half-way across the room and the inevitable requests for “onemoregamepleaseit’snottoolateyet” she’s got a good grasp of how the games are played and loves to beat me whenever possible. And I truly don’t mind losing in the most humiliating ways possible.
Somewhere in the future I imagine my daughter with sunglasses sporting a cool baseball cap playing at a Main Event Poker Tournament in Vegas. She’ll glance at her cards in a way so that the camera catches only a brief glimpse of her hands but her body language and mannerisms will give away nothing. Expertly she’ll analyze her cards and wait for the various cards to be turned over, flop, turn, river. She’ll know when to bluff, when to fold when to go “all in” and will understand a hundred nuances of the game that I will never even begin to comprehend. And it will have all started, innocently enough, with “Duck Duck Bruce.”