Thank goodness we didn't get to see his chocolate factory

Over the last month we've been seeing a lot of family. And, as a result, we've ended up playing some traditional games. Yes, harking back to days of old is always the route we take - honestly, I don't know why my mother can't just get to grips with Call of Duty and we could all play online.

First up, a mention for a game of bum-charades. Yes, that's what I'm calling it. Now, it may sound like a euphemism, but it's actually my brother's way of playing charades. He's like a bottom obsessed Lionel Blair, if there is such a thing - which there is.

Yes, he tries to use his bottom to describe every word. He'll point to it and make the 'sounds like' mime, and then use 'sounds like bum' for the 'slum' in 'Slumdog Millionaire' or 'sounds like arse' for the 'pass' in 'Passport to Pimlico'. Thankfully we managed to steal his thunder, because after guessing the first word was 'Charlie' the cry of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' came too quick for him to point to his bottom for the last two words.

As well as charades, boardgames have made a reappearance. But here's some sad news. The classic board games are being eroded to make them more 'cool' (as I believe the kids call it). Take Monopoly, which we bought from a toy shop a few months back. We went to play it thinking about all the great things it has - an iron for a playing piece, the phrase 'community chest' and nicking notes out of the bank when no-ones looking.

Oh no. We had bought 'Monopoly City'. A version of the game which, and I swear I am not making this up, that comes with an electronic timer that you use during 'planning permission meetings'. Oh, there's fun. I've rolled two sixes, that means I advance to go, but have to fill in a 'protected tree trimming order' from the local council and then claiming £10 in tax back because it's my birthday.

And Cluedo is no better. Worse even. We all knew where we stood with Cluedo. Mansion, amusingly named guests, the candlestick etc. Apparantly, that was too old school. Now the players aren't called Miss Scarlett or Captain Mustard - now they are 'Vanessa Scarlett - actress' and 'Jeff Mustard - pro sports star' and the weapons include things like 'the sports trophy' and 'the rubber chicken' - alright that last one might be false, but so's the whole game. Why spoil the formula? I was half-expecting to open the murder cards at the end to find a note saying 'He killed himself, ha.'*

Stop messing with these things. They'll be adding testicles to Buckaroo next.

*A quick mention of my favourite Cluedo story. My chum Rusty once had a 3hour game of Cluedo with his very drunken brother. After eliminating every possibility, Rusty was so fed up with the game going on - and there being no logical solution - that he took the murder cards out of the pouch to find that it was Reverend Green, in the Hallway...with the Lounge. There was very nearly an actual murder with a very small spanner that night.