Go Together Life

Families that play together, stay together.
Or at least, that’s what we’ve been telling ourselves through years of adventures, misadventures, and moments that fall somewhere between character building and hilariously unforgettable.

As we rack up experiences, the good, the bad, and the ones that still make us cry with laughter, there’s one thing we never travel without, no matter where we’re headed: two full decks of cards. Shoes can be optional. Cards are not.

Over the years we’ve tried countless games, but we always circle back to our original favorite: Palace (known by a far less PC name, sh**head, in Patrick’s extended family). Palace is the perfect card game because it blends skill and luck in equal measure. Some of us show up armed with strategy, others rely heavily on the luck of the Irish, and a select few bring the dangerously effective combination of both.

The aim of the game is simple: don’t lose. The penalty for losing? Wearing the Hat of Shame for the next round. We’ve cycled through many hats over the years and played countless games. Despite overwhelming statistical evidence to the contrary, Mandy has somehow earned a reputation as the one to beat, while the cold, hard facts reveal that Reese is the true card shark, boasting a near-perfect record.

We’ve played Palace in just about every National Park up and down the West Coast, perched high above the ocean in the hills of the Cinque Terre, on trains and in airports across the world, while warthogs grazed nearby in Kruger National Park, and huddled on the floor of the Florence train station waiting for our ride to Venice. Every game is a little different, but no matter the setting, it always does the same thing: pulls us together, lifts the mood, sparks laughter, and unleashes our competitive streak.

There’s always a silent (and sometimes very not-silent) struggle to avoid sitting to the left of Mandy. Someone inevitably offers a sarcastic “thanks” to the dealer after seeing their opening hand. But whenever things start to feel a bit frayed around the edges or boredom starts to settle in, someone reaches for the cards, and suddenly, everything feels lighter.

On our most recent trip to Iceland, a new favorite emerged when the teens introduced the parents to Imposter, a game of skill, intuition, and reading the room. It’s quickly become a post-dinner staple, with Adam emerging as the surprising champion, armed with an almost uncanny ability to read people.

That same trip also saw the rise of another unexpected pastime: karaoke while cooking dinner. Yes, really. Picture four very content parents enjoying a pre-dinner drink at the gin bar across the street while the teens shopped for and prepared dinner. To be fair, Reese and Madison did most of the actual cooking, while the others contributed primarily by “helping” (read: getting in the way) and enthusiastically belting out whatever song was having its moment.

Even a noise complaint from the downstairs neighbor, while it dampened the volume, did nothing to dim the enthusiasm. More than one teen later declared that their favorite moment of the entire trip was when the dads joined in for the final song before dinner. And for the record, it was only 6 p.m. and not that loud.

The only game that hasn’t quite lived up to expectations is the latest “keep the beat” YouTube challenge, optimistically introduced by Ally without fully accounting for the rhythmic limitations of at least half the group. A few attempts and a lot of laughter later, we accepted defeat and moved on.

And that’s really the point.

Games, whether they’re cards, karaoke, or ill-fated rhythm challenges, have a way of cutting through the noise. They bring us into the same moment, around the same table, laughing at the same things. They remind us to put the phones down, look each other in the eye, and just be together. Win or lose, sing off-key or perfectly on beat, those shared moments become the glue that holds the memories together.

Families that play together may not always stay perfectly in sync, but they stay connected. And for us, that’s the real win.