Yeah, that was my exact response when my husband shared with me his new-found fondness for the game of cornhole. Three years ago Hubs was away in his beloved Texas for military training and a fellow NCO had a set. It was the hottest thing going, better than the movies apparently. Go figure! Not even after his brief over-the-phone explanation of the rules of play ( “It’s like horseshoes – only not.” Yep that cleared it right up for me), did I understand why this game was called cornhole. Honestly, it just sounds, well, not nice. ;)
Now dear readers, please understand, I am not from The South; I am an Ohioan through and through. You’ll have to forgive me (though I am not really making an apology. . .) while being married to a Texan for the last ten years has done much to repair my ignorance of southernly things, obviously, I have a long way to go.
What I’ve managed to gather from subsequent conversations is that men (and I am assuming women are also allowed to participate) stand around throwing little corn filled bags toward identical half raised boards (regulation distance apart, of course) with holes in them. After ascertaining that it was not in fact a drinking game, it dawned on me, “Oh! Are you talking about bean bag toss?” Hey, that’s what we called it the last time I played the game – in kindergarten. My husband does not drink, though after the evidently deflating comment I made toward his cherished cornhole he sounded as though that option was suddenly under consideration.
Fast-forward to the present: I am picking up Michael (our oldest son, age six) from school and what do I happen upon? You guessed it a pair of cornhole sets for a very reasonable price. Right in the yard of a house not half a block away from our OHIO home. Had to be a sign, right? Okay, yeah there was a price sign, but I mean (enter ethereal sounding music here) a * SIGN*, you know, From Above?! Hubby being away for military training - AGAIN, I made the executive decision to secretly place an order for a set with Texas A&M custom-painted on them! I originally intended the gift to be for his birthday or Christmas, or both, not really being the type of family that has disposable cash for such extravagances. But true to form, I have a hard time keeping secrets from Hubs. Hey, if I hadn’t succumbed, the kids surely would have. I had to tell him when we enjoyed our nightly ritual: the long-distance phone conversation. Hubs is delighted and now more than ever eager to get home.
The best part? He has to wait a (w)hole month in agony and I’ll have plenty of practice time before he gets home to his cornhole, – and his wife and three kids, of course.