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Quick! List all the Rocks You Know! (??)


I’ve started a new dinner conversation game, all in an effort to pry technology out of little addicted hands.

(My parents are doing much better since I’ve implemented this plan.) (Just kidding. My parents are hardly the ones begging for iphones, ipads, and iproducts all the livelong day.)

We play a game called The List.

One person chooses a category, and then we go around the table listing items in that category until one person either repeats one that has been said or simply runs out of ideas. But nobody’s ever really eliminated, because it’s a very gracious game.

Our best rounds have been Colors (which I won with Purple Mountains Majesty), Superheroes (which I lost quite remarkably), and Muppets (in which we named more than 30 Muppets, including Gonzo’s chicken: Carmella).

In the latest round, it was Tyler’s turn to name the category.

“Kinds of Rocks,” he said.


“Good grief! Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ve been learning about rocks, and I know the names of many of them.”

Let’s just say I know way more Muppets than I know rocks. But, you can’t argue with the one who names the Category. You can only begin the list.

Tyler starts. “Crystal.”
Then Rob. “Sedimentary.”
Then Tucker. “Moon.”
Then Dad: “Sandstone.”
Then Mom: “Quartz.”
Then Tricia: “Igneous.”
Tyler contined. “Silt. Sand. Gravel. Boulder.

And this had officially exhausted my geology knowledge.

I mean, come on, can’t we make a list of parts of speech? Or even just adverbs?

Still, the expectations continued with the above list of contestants.

“That’s not a rock.”
“It’s a stone.”
“A stone is a rock.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s a stone.”
“A little grace, please. Give him the point. Moving on.”
“Okay… um, heavy metal.”
“Of Ages.”
“and Roll.”
“…ing chair.”

“The Rock.” My brother says. And he raises his eyebrows at us, giving himself extra points for bringing God into the conversation.

“That is higher than I,” he continues. “And, if only we would put as much heart into our worship as we have put into this game… just take a moment to think about it all.”

Because a little Jesus Juke never hurt anyone.

Tricia Lott Williford

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