Earlier this week, my father asked to borrow my copy of Scrabble. Technically, he didn't ask to borrow my copy; he asked to borrow his copy which he claimed that I kept when he abandoned it during one of his moves. If I did such a thing, I would think that would make it my copy now, but none of that is really the point.

As it turns out, I had four copies of Scrabble in our games closet, two copyright dated 1953, one 1989, and one 1999. I assume these once belonged to my mother, my father, and my long lost brother. That accounts for the '53 and '99 boards. Is the '89 board mine? I don't recall ever owning my own Scrabble board. Am I a chronic Scrabble kleptomaniac?

More importantly, while investigating the contents of the four sets, I discovered that all have the correct number of 100 tiles, all except for the oldest. It has 100 tiles, but not the correct 100. It is missing one O₁ and one X₈. In their place it has instead two tiles that must have come from yet another old set (one N₁ and one Z₁₀) that have been crossed through with pencil and O₁ and X₈ penciled on the other side. It sure looks like my handwriting, but that can't be right, can it? (An amnesiac Scrabble graphomaniac?)

Now my problem is that my broken brain is bothered by the fact that I own one incomplete Scrabble set. I have a terrible compulsion to go online and buy one vintage O₁ and one vintage X₈. That would be stupid. I have three perfect good Scrabble sets, and even the bad one is playable. No one in my house has even opened a Scrabble box in at least a decade. (No offense to Scrabble. It's a great game. But most of our board games were played by me and my brother, and as I said: "long lost.") If only I could stop thinking about it. I've become a psychoneurotic Scrabble monomaniac!

Some kids have monsters under their beds keeping them awake at night. I now have two tiny wooden tiles in my gaming closet. Damn Dad and his desire to play word games.

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