Becky sat and watched the boys play. It went this way almost every day. She knew when she asked the question, what they would say. It was just their way.

“You play winner.”

Today things would be with a different ending. Not off into her room would they be sending. She had planned and the outcome was pending.

“You play winner.”

She let them play a round. She never made a sound. One brother on the other did pound. Tighter and tighter did the spring got wound.

“You play winner.”

Again, those words were said. The younger sister saw the color red. She wished her brother’s players dead. Upon her fun they again had tread.

“You play winner.”

Into her plans, her heels were dug. Up she stood to cross the rug. The look she gave her brothers was smug. Then she quickly pulled the plug.

“I am the winner.”