Caught in the Act

Solitaire. I play too much of it, and generally alone because, well, solitaire. A derivative of solitary. I think.

It runs in the family. Dad played, Mom played, and I remember sitting in me Grandpa Joe's kitchen when I was ten or eleven watching him play. Klondike is our version of choice. I didn't even know it had a name other than solitaire until I was an adult. Once I learned that my reaction was, it makes sense. Why should there be only one type of one person card game? Yet that never occurred to me before my twenties.

I was once playing it when I admittedly shouldn't have been. For the last ten years I taught I was in a self driven classroom where students could take a myriad of subjects which were streamed in via computer. As such, we were there to facilitate as much as anything, helping students through difficult tasks, getting them needed materials, and grading finished work among other chores. 

Our sessions ended at 9 PM weeknights. One evening at around 8:45 with few students in attendance, honestly maybe three, and with no immediate demands on my time, I sat down at an open computer which I thought was out of view and pulled up solitaire. About half way through my game I got that feeling we all get sometimes of being watched. Turning around, a young man who was something of a joker (but a cool one) was standing there with a broad smile on his face. He pointed at me and barked sternly, "Get back to work!", and laughed.

I laughed with him. What could I do? I was caught.