Bingo Nights with Grandma Lou

My grandmother has played bingo at the church hall every Tuesday night for thirty-five years. This spring, after I moved back to town, she invited me along. "Bring a dauber," she said, as if I knew what that was.

It turns out a dauber is a fat marker you use to stamp your numbers. Grandma has a whole collection in different colors. She also has a lucky troll doll with purple hair that she sets next to her cards, and a seat in the third row that nobody else is allowed to sit in.

She plays nine cards at once. I could barely keep up with two. The caller, a retired mailman named Frank, has a booming voice and a joke for every number. "B-4, and after!" "N-44, close the door!"

On my fourth Tuesday, I won. Twenty-five dollars. I yelled "BINGO!" so loud that Frank dropped his microphone. Grandma looked at me with enormous pride. Then she said I was buying the donuts.