Slug Bug. Don’t Slug Back.

Rosie and I played Slug Bug for about a year straight. It was Dad’s sneaky way to teach her to do math in her head and improve her memory.  When a cease fire was finally negotiated the score was 79 to 39, Rosie.  I think.

It wasn’t really fair. I call a Slug Bug and touch her. She’d wail me……hard. The Bug that lives next door was murder until I convinced it was off limits because it lived next door and was always there.

Car dealerships were also Right Out.

With our rules, the score piled up.  Convertibles are double. “Old” Bugs are double. An Old Convertible is a Double-Double. Old VW vans are mobile ass whooping Triples and God help me if she finds a Convertible van.

Oh Shit!

Three years later we play a kind of Guerrilla Slug Bug. The focal point being the Surprise Attack.  The Wal Mart parking lot is a Slug Bug mine field.

Apparently there is a rule that you have to get the color right. Announcing the wrong color reneges the Don’t Slug Back feature. She can be picky ( or she cheats).

Dad: “Slug Bug….Green. Don’t Slug Back.”

Rosie: “It’s not green, it’s Mint”. Wham!

Dad: “Slug Bug…Gold. Don’t Slug Back.”

Rosie: “Orange.” Wham.

Is “Penny” even a color?  I had to do something .  I suggested playing…


She said she didn’t know  what a PT Cruiser was…..Exactly. Victory is mine.

Victory lasted about two hours. Then Rosie declared…


Dad got wailed so hard in a flurry of  Slug Pick Up Trucks that I might have lost consciousness ( Okay, busted, but it could’ve happened. The passing out part).

Recently I’ve tried a different tactic to prevent being slugged and inappropriate times (like when driving). I declared…..


Rosie told me that was disgusting and didn’t want to play.


Until next time.

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