"Do you want to play that?" I propose, pointing at the Monopoly box. His glance follows the direction of my index finger.
"I guess so," his voice turns soft as he shrugs. "I don't know how to play. It's for ages eight and up."
"You played Metal Slug even if it's not your age worthy. I bet this one's a breeze for you," I encourage. "It might help you with math problems better."
He agrees to this idea and I beam in relief by his approval. I crawl towards the stack of board games while carefully pulling out to release Monopoly box from the stack like pulling out a Jenga block. I dusted off the lid of the box before pushing it up to open, then unfold the board to lay it out on the floor. I opt to flout any rigid rules complicated enough for a child to comprehend and tweak its game play into something math relatable.
I let him choose his piece and he picks up the car while I select the shoe. The preparation before the game mirroring to its original with 'Chance' and 'Community Chest' cards facing down on its respective spaces on the board but the game will be played without a dedicated banker. Each of us is given equal amount of multiple notes consist of $500, $100, $50, $20, $10, $5, and $1 that accumulates to $1,500.00 in total. Other than letting him to understand subtraction and addition from his cash flow, I remind Hussaini to pay attention to his cash balances throughout the game to avoid running out of funds.
We started off the game well. Hussaini understands that he has to move nine spaces when the rolling dice stop at five and four at each respective die. So, he's able to grasp single digit math calculation. However, he struggles with bigger numbers along the way when he starts purchases properties and pay taxes from the Chance card. I don't plan to make much properties, I just want him to understand math in a fun way. When he's able to get the hang of the game, I just let him mark his territories in most spaces while cautioning him of his reducing funds.
"How many dollars do you have left?" I peek at his remaining notes but he shields them with the Monopoly box lid.
"I'm not telling you," he pouts. "You'll steal it from me."
"No, I just want you to recap what you've learnt so far," I clarify, pushing a piece of blank white paper and a pencil towards him as his worksheet.
Hussaini's detesting to the idea is palpable from the sulking, yet he quietly compels and slowly counts the amount of money left in his savings, writing down denomination of each notes for addition. Then, I briefly guide him on the calculation method, adding all up into a total sum of funds to which he manages to solve it without making too many errors.
I learnt that when he pays attention to something that is of his interest, the knowledge sticks better in his head. When he's able to grasp the flow of the game, his acquisitiveness grows and soon he occupies most spaces while I had to pay him rental fee at every space he owns that I land on. Although I'm disappointed by his petulant move to monopolise the board, I'm happy that he surpasses the fundamental understanding of calculations even for triple digit numbers.
"Don't let greed consume you," I remind him once again. "You need to have savings. Not all investments are good investments."
"I'm not letting you win," he snickers as he carries on with his turn. "I'm not letting you to have any houses or spots."
But his victory was short-lived when fate turn its table, causing him to face jail, loss a turn, and selling back a quarter of his properties to the bank for half a price. As much as I muster logical explanation behind the divestment, Hussaini refuse to accept his luck and becomes flustered by the defeat.
"You're cheating!" he bellows in dissatisfaction. "You know how much money I have so you can trick me into jail."
"I ask you to count your cash for maths purpose," I cock my eyebrows. "And how am I to put you into jail?"
"Maybe when I wasn't looking, you push my car to 'Jail' spot," he insinuated. "You're a liar and a cheater!"
I try reasoning with him, but his annoyance riles me up that my voice drowns him out. We both jumped down on each other's throat trying to prove our respective facts right when I know it's futile to talk this over to a child. As the heat of our quarrel escalate, Hussaini shove the board away, causing all the pieces and cards thrown across the room to create another abrupt mess.
But what he does next is clearly beyond my expectation and I once again underestimated his malicious attempt to throw fit at me. He charges towards his pile of toys for his cricket bat. I push myself away from him, sliding my butt on the carpeted floor to stand up. But his movement is faster, he swings the bat and strikes me by the temple with a single strong blow.
Pang!
"Stupid wrench cheater! I'm gonna kill you!" he growls angrily at me as I pivot to the floor and scream in pain, trying to stop the tears of agony from exposing my defeat.
Getting physically hurt twice is intolerable, I need to draw a line. I begin to reevaluate the amount paid for chaperoning a menace vis-à-vis getting whacked, hit or any bodily harm risks in a long run.
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