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A little Bingo
Bob calls for our local Bingo about once a month. This time he brought his
four-year-old son along and he entertained us throughout the evening.
The balls bouncing in a glass-fronted container fascinated him. He helped
his daddy call and was pleased with himself that he knew the numbers.
He came to our table and made friends. “I can play Bingo,” he said. “I know
my numbers.”
“Do you know what a Bingo is?” asked Kate.
“It’s just a line, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes,” said Kate, “and sometimes it is in a different shape. I could
help you.”
“Okay,” said the child, but as soon as the balls started bouncing, he was
off to watch them, giggling with pleasure.
“I think he’s a little young,” I said.
“I don’t know,” said Kate. “Let’s try him out on something simple. How
about the Bonanza?”
“Might be okay,” I said. “That will be a simple blackout. He can play one of
mine.”
We arranged him at the table with a Bonanza card. This time the bouncing
balls did not call him away as a different machine was used. He was
thoroughly caught up in the game and was soon on for B4. “That’s how old
I am,” he said. “I bet I get it.”
He bounced on his chair and kept chanting “B4, B4,” quietly as he waited.
But then the number came up and he jumped up and cheered. “Bingo,
Daddy. I’ve got a Bingo.”
He was not eligible for the win, as he had not purchased a buy-in. He was
so ecstatic over winning that I could not even consider taking the card
back and claiming it as my own. The whole Bingo Hall went into “pause”
mode.
The final decision rested with the caller, but the caller was the child’s
father. The little boy looked hopeful. Bob just looked confused. “I don’t
know what to do,” he said. “What do you think?”
I thought furiously and came up with an idea. “Could we donate the
winnings to the Children’s Hospital?” I asked. “That would seem to take
care of who wins.”
“That’s a great idea,” said Bob. “The winnings will be donated to Children’s
Hospital.”
Kate unobtrusively pulled a ten-dollar bill from her purse. “This is for you,”
she said to the expectant child. “For being such a good sport.”
“Oh,” said the little boy. “Does this mean I can come back and play Bingo
again?”
“Not in my lifetime,” said Bob. “Not unless your mother comes along
Bob calls for our local Bingo about once a month. This time he brought his
four-year-old son along and he entertained us throughout the evening.
The balls bouncing in a glass-fronted container fascinated him. He helped
his daddy call and was pleased with himself that he knew the numbers.
He came to our table and made friends. “I can play Bingo,” he said. “I know
my numbers.”
“Do you know what a Bingo is?” asked Kate.
“It’s just a line, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes,” said Kate, “and sometimes it is in a different shape. I could
help you.”
“Okay,” said the child, but as soon as the balls started bouncing, he was
off to watch them, giggling with pleasure.
“I think he’s a little young,” I said.
“I don’t know,” said Kate. “Let’s try him out on something simple. How
about the Bonanza?”
“Might be okay,” I said. “That will be a simple blackout. He can play one of
mine.”
We arranged him at the table with a Bonanza card. This time the bouncing
balls did not call him away as a different machine was used. He was
thoroughly caught up in the game and was soon on for B4. “That’s how old
I am,” he said. “I bet I get it.”
He bounced on his chair and kept chanting “B4, B4,” quietly as he waited.
But then the number came up and he jumped up and cheered. “Bingo,
Daddy. I’ve got a Bingo.”
He was not eligible for the win, as he had not purchased a buy-in. He was
so ecstatic over winning that I could not even consider taking the card
back and claiming it as my own. The whole Bingo Hall went into “pause”
mode.
The final decision rested with the caller, but the caller was the child’s
father. The little boy looked hopeful. Bob just looked confused. “I don’t
know what to do,” he said. “What do you think?”
I thought furiously and came up with an idea. “Could we donate the
winnings to the Children’s Hospital?” I asked. “That would seem to take
care of who wins.”
“That’s a great idea,” said Bob. “The winnings will be donated to Children’s
Hospital.”
Kate unobtrusively pulled a ten-dollar bill from her purse. “This is for you,”
she said to the expectant child. “For being such a good sport.”
“Oh,” said the little boy. “Does this mean I can come back and play Bingo
again?”
“Not in my lifetime,” said Bob. “Not unless your mother comes along