You could hear her voice echoing throughout the house, “I got a yahtzee! I got a yahtzee!” Grandma was gleeful, she was loud and most of all, she was competitive. When it came to her game, she was one serious opponent. As children, we dreaded her invitation to come into the kitchen and play. She didn't take our young feelings into consideration. She didn't take our bedtimes or our short attention spans into consideration, either. No, when it came to Yahtzee, it was a game she was playing to win.

Growing up, I realized my Grandma Ashley wasn't like my friend's Grandmas. She wasn't one to hug and bake cookies. I never saw her wear an apron. She didn't sew or crochet or knit. No, my Grandma Ashley was more of an intellectual. She liked to read and encouraged all of us grandkids to read, too. She kept a family library and sent us home with books she thought we should read. She loved crossword puzzles and had books of them sitting in the living room. She did the hard ones, but if someone gave her a book of easy ones, she'd send those home with us, too.

Grandma had a cabinet full of old games and might be convinced to sit still for a game of dominoes or Chinese checkers, but her favorite game was Yahtzee. I don't know when her obsession started, but I can remember her playing throughout my childhood. The loud, click-clack of the dice on the table, the quick counting of dots and adding of points, she lived for that game. And you couldn't play just once--oh no--Grandma wanted to play continuously. She'd be sitting in the kitchen for hours with those dice, taking on opponent after opponent.

Grandma took the game seriously. She liked to win and didn't give us grandkids any breaks. Once we were old enough to count the dots on the face of the dice, we were eligible to play. Funny thing though, we didn't really need to count the dots, because Grandma did it for us. I always thought she did it because she felt like we counted too slowly, but my Aunt told me she counted for her and her sisters, too.

I never really liked the game much. I was a little slow at math and playing with her made me nervous--the quick pace and the loud noise, but it didn't matter to Grandma. We were expected to participate. I can remember going home upset with her, not understanding her joy when she won. I used to think she didn't love me. How could she, if she insisted I play her game and take home her books? Little did I realize, those Yahtzee games were improving my math skills. They taught me a little bit about probability and chance. Playing that dice game with Grandma taught me a little bit about her, too. It showed me not every grandmother hugged or baked. It taught me that the roll of five dice could be a game of love.