Lessons learned from a game of Jinx

"Jinx. Double Jinx. Triple Jinx. Buy me a Coke."

This familiar chant has recently entered the kids' lexicon and now it's driving us all crazy.

The first time they tried it out on me, I handily beat them by quadrupling their Jinx and then adding an infinity Jinx. As Jinx novices, they actually observed the "no talking rule" for about 10 minutes and it was bliss! They spent the next few days following me around trying to make me say predictable things so that they could work the Jinx magic on me.

My kids still have no comprehension that they are dealing with a Jinx master and were completely befuddled when their not-so-subtle attempts at trickery went awry.

Example: "Mom, can we please have candy before dinner?" They were Jinx-ready with both a standard "no" and an "absolutely not."

However, I simultaneously foiled their attempt and got their hopes up by pretending to think about it, and then asking them what kind of candy they might want. I then boomeranged the Jinx by correctly guessing what kind of candy they would each pick, and Jinxing them when we said it together, and ultimately shut them down with a "no candy before dinner, or after dinner for that matter either."

And that, folks, is how you Jinx.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you don't spend enough time with 8-year-olds, or you may have never been an 8-year-old yourself. Jinx is when you and another person say the same thing, at the same time. You then throw down "Jinx." The other person is supposed to not talk until someone else says their name, or if they speak, they are penalized with a "pinch, poke or buy me a coke." Since most people are familiar with this game, "Jinx" is usually repeated simultaneously, leading to "double Jinx" and so on. The beauty of the Jinx game is that the players can feel free to modify and add rules at any time. I have been known to randomly add a "no tag backs" and the oldest, A, recently tried to extend it to quintuple, sextuple and septuple Jinx. All is fair in love, war and Jinx.

This may seem like an utterly ridiculous thing to write about, but the Jinx game may be a quintessential lesson in parenting.

First of all, this is a great example of how to navigate the "I'm not your friend, I'm your parent" waters. The kids clearly came into the Jinx game thinking that they were going to pull one over on me. I turned the tables by not only knowing what they were up to, but managing to beat them at their own game. While I have been known to hold back my superior Candyland and Chutes and Ladders skills on occasion, I wasn't about to get tricked into a Jinx by the kids. They were quickly put in their place and reminded who is in charge. I can still be silly, and appreciate all the crazy rules that they will employ, but I am always one step ahead and I am going to be the ultimate Jinx champion every time.

Secondly, the ever-changing nature of the Jinx allows them to continually try to outsmart each other.

For whatever reason, there is little to no animosity involved with losing at Jinx among my kids. We've also dispensed with the pinching, and have just agreed to add to the Coke tally when Jinx is broken. Whatever new rule one of them comes up with, the loser will then employ that rule to beat the third one. They will all then head back to the drawing board to come up with a new surprise rule. There are occasional arguments as they try to decipher which level of Jinx is the most powerful.

They are also paying a lot more attention to each other and the things they are saying, as they prepare to try to guess what the other one is going to say next so that they can Jinx them. Occasionally, they end up in an actual discussion, forgetting all about the Jinx they were trying lay down.

A few mornings after the initial Jinx challenge, when everyone was barely awake enough to eat their Cheerios, I referenced a line from a famous movie to catch their attention. Apparently, A's teacher uses the same line. His head shot up and he said, "Mom! How do you know that saying?"

G, in a resigned tone, said, "A, when are you going to learn? Mom knows everything."

I was amused by their exchange, and, wishing that I did, in fact, know everything, but I was mostly just pumped that for right now, they are under the impression that they can't get one over on me.

I know that once they become teenagers, they will immediately attain "know-it-all" status, but perhaps they will remember our fun little games of Jinx and think twice before trying to sneak in after curfew.

Goodness knows, with the giant stash of Coke I've accumulated, I will have plenty of caffeine to help me stay up and wait for them.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.