June 4, 2026: Mat's Entertainment

I had a sitcom-esque moment the other day, when I learned my in-laws were going to be coming into our house with zero notice, after a family dinner out turned into a "let's swing by your house to play games" situation.

This wouldn't be a problem normally, except our gaming table – a.k.a. "our dining-room table" – was in the midst of a weeks-long RPG campaign. This meant that every square inch (and then some) of the table's surface was covered with some sort of game-related element: dice, chips, minis, papers, books, counters . . .

Now, my mother-in-law and father-in-law are absolutely amazing and wonderful people, but I still try to hide my deficiencies from them . . . so I wasn't particularly keen on having them experience the full grandeur of our sprawling messiness. My disorderly existence is a secret to all except those who read blog posts.

Fortunately, as we all pulled up to the driveway together, I formulated a plan that hinged on two elements:

1) I'm faster than they are.

2) When we game, we cover the table with various neoprene-and-fabric playmats.

With preternatural swiftness, I lept into action as we got out of the car. I darted into the house first (grabbing an empty shipping box in the garage) and used the playmats as an impromptu "net" to scoop up everything that was sitting on the table, dumping the contents unceremoniously into the box in four cacophonous clatters.

Within 90 seconds (before our guests could set foot in our dining room), I had completed my task: The table was bare and presentable, with the overflowing cardboard container stuffed in a nearby room.

We played Star Fluxx.

I'm not sure what lesson is to be gleaned here, aside from the fact that playmats are awesome, and there are few forces more motivating than the fear of disappointing one's in-laws. If you're looking to add to your collection (of playmats, that is, not in-laws), I'd humbly direct you to Warehouse 23.

Bonus pic of the post-gaming in-laws-departed in-progress reconstruction . . . including a mound of dice that need to be sorted out between three people.

-- Steven Marsh