Are you Wordling? Me too.
Sounds like somethin’ nae fine squirmin’ aboot in yer belly. I’m addicted. I rue the day a quine said a few weeks ago: “Have you tried Wordle yet?” She kens I’m a sucker for word games because I’m a no-hoper with number-posers.
That whole Sudoku rage passed me by for the simple reason I’m an arithmetical numbnut. In class E for maths at school (F accommodating the biggest digital dopes), I wasn’t even allowed to sit O-grade until fifth year – when everyone else was sitting their Highers. D’uh.
But, I sure compensated in the letters department, dad teaching me the secret codes of difficult crossword-solving with the Daily Mail when I was about 11. As a result, easy-peasy little ones are no good to me.
My delight is the The Times Saturday jumbo cryptic. So fiendish, they give you two weeks to send in your entry. Sadly, on the few occasions I’ve managed to finish and send in, zilch came up trumps. But, oh the joy of facing that virgin puzzle every week, pathetic grid geek that I am.
Wooed by Wordle
So, along comes Wordle. Get the five-letter word in six tries, otherwise you’re gassed. Seemed pleasant enough. No sweat. Me nae really that fussed. Most folk counting how big a sequence they get without going bust.
Ah, but… they haven’t got my son as their son. Every day’s new one comes online at midnight. We’re both late-bedders so, a pucklie weeks ago, he started texting me his completed Wordle. I’d check it, admire: “Clever you doing it in four.”
A few he did in three. You can guess the rest.
Alas, unable to keep on praising, I was sucked in – like a puddick to a heron’s thrapple. Dear reader, imagine the pickle we’ve now got oorsellies into. At the tick of 12, we’re on to it; who gets it first and in how few tries?
A ‘friendly’ competition
It gets worse. Sez the loon: “Have you tried Quordle?” Fit the…? Same thing, but four grids, nine chances for each. Here’s me: “Nae even one chunce, sunshine.”
I explained I aye had my Times crossword on the bile to torture my grey matter. Then the sod comes back, astute at knowing which buttons to push: “Since you’re pretty good at Wordle, I’d just be interested to see how you get on with the multi.”
We’ve both got the same competitive spirit: we pretend not to mind who beats who and how often but, deep down, we’re both on fire to win
So, there we have it; at the witching hour every night, my wee lamb and me in mortal combat to see who “shares” first with Wordle and in how few moves, then ditto Quordle. We’ve both got the same competitive spirit: we pretend not to mind who beats who and how often but, deep down, we’re both on fire to win.
Just as a test, I sent him one of my brain-befuddlin’ cryptic crossword clues the other day, which I’d solved almost on the spot. How did he do? Even when I explained it, he didn’t understand. Yesss!
Moreen Simpson is a former assistant editor of The Press & Journal and started her journalism career in 1970
