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Bonding over the Feud

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I didn’t see this coming.

I couldn’t see this coming.

But my 15-year-old daughter and I have spent much of this summer bonding over Family Feud.

Again, I didn’t see this coming. I’ve spent some of the past year ripping this stupid show, what with its not-so-subtle sexual innuendos and its annoying host, the ever-grating Steve Harvey. The Game Show Network seems to show episodes of the Feud 290 times per day, and it always struck me as this never-ending buffet of dumb awfulness.

That said … I dunno. We’ve been watching it. The Feud is casual, fun viewing. Engaging as hell. Sorta laughable. Some of the contests are quite bright. The majority seem dumb as stumps. And, really, they’re the best of the best. Because when Steve asks WHAT’S A FURRY ANIMAL COSTUME YOU’D WANT YOUR HUSBAND TO WEAR TO BED? and someone says, “Cinderella!”—well, it’s awesome.

So Casey and I laugh, chuckle, mock, engage. She’s 15, and the years are flying by. Soon, she’ll be off to college, post-college, real world.

And when I think back to the summer of 18, I’ll think of her and I sitting side by side.

Watching the Feud.

 

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