Gin with a Rummy

Twenty-six years ago I made the mistake of teaching Fred how to play gin rummy. Gin was my family's favorite card game, whereas Fred grew up playing pinochle and cribbage. My dad and brother played gin all the time and had their own lingo from which we still borrow. "Jumped on that like a bitin' sow!" said to an opponent who quickly picks up your discarded card. "Fidar fidar!" crowed when a card "fits" perfectly into a run in your hand. Observers would probably think they were crazy. I still have the score sheet from the last games Fred and I played with my dad, eleven days before he died. My dad won two of three, Fred won the third, and I didn't score a single point in three games. Maybe that should have been an omen...
When Fred first learned the game, I won most of the time. Unfortunately, that changed pretty quickly. During almost every game, I'm subjected to remarks like "The student has surpassed the master!!" We play for a dollar a game, plus a penny a point if the spread is more that 100. A skunk costs double. So if Fred beat me 133-0 (a game goes to 125) I'd owe him $2.66. During each game he invariably asks in an innocent voice, "Have you ever seen someone be behind 124-0 and come back to win??" He won a game like that against me a few years ago, causing me to stomp around the table using words I don't normally say. Is it any wonder my pet name for him is Dead Horse? We've played "strip gin" in January, resulting in me shivering in my BVDs. (Hey, winters are LONG in Wisconsin!)
A month ago my family was here for a picnic, and Fred played gin with my sister Kelley. She beat him three straight games--and since that day, I haven't won a single game. I had $9 and some change in my gin jar, and now it's empty. I've had to take money out of my purse to pay him, too. He counted the money in his jar on Saturday and had $19.52--the counting accompanied by comments like "I'm going to need a bigger jar!"
We have both gone through these slumps over the years, but it's especially frustrating to keep losing when I'm the one who taught him the game. My one claim to superiority is that I don't tear up cards and throw them on the floor like his family has been known to do during cribbage games. (Though I may have called him a shithead once or twice...) If the shoe fits!!

**After writing the draft of this blog yesterday, I won a game 148-116. I gloated, "The streak has ended!" "STREAK??!" he scoffed. "More like a drought!" See what I have to put up with? At least I now have a dollar of seed money back in my gin jar!!