In a world of Fortnite dances, AirPods, and phones that might as well be surgically attached, there remains one ancient tradition that somehow still unites the family: game night.
That’s right. We’re talking old-school, cardboard-boxed, pop-the-lid, and fight-over-who-gets-to-be-blue board games. And at our house, nothing gets the living room buzzing like a heated round of Trivial Pursuit.
Now, before you roll your eyes and assume I’m forcing my kids into some wholesome sitcom fantasy, let me be clear—I absolutely am. Getting your teens to engage in family activities is like convincing a cat to take a bath. But once you lure them in (usually with bribes), something magical happens.
The Setup: Strategy, and Suspicion
Game night starts the same every time. My wife casually suggests it during dinner as the boys are eating and maybe not paying close attention to what is going on.
“Do you want to play a board game tonight?”
Cue the sighs. The pauses as they try to think of a way out. The classic, “Not really.”
This was the usual way things played out for many months until we found the right game.
The board game the boys are actually very into these days.
Trivial Pursuit for the win.
Now that the boys are teens, we can actually do something that I have loved for most of my life. Trivia.
The kids clean up after dinner, we get out the box, and set up the board. Excitement builds as pie colours are chosen, the boys start a little trash talk about how they are going to win, and we get to it.
Why Trivial Pursuit?
First of all, it’s one of the few games that levels the playing field. Teens might dominate in “Pop Culture” and “Sports & Leisure,” but us parents have the edge in “History” and “Things That Happened Before the Internet.” It’s a strategic trade-off, and it leads to alliances, betrayals, and the occasional smug grin from yours truly when I nail a geography question no one else even tries to answer.
Also, it’s secretly educational. But don’t tell the kids that. It’s like slipping vegetables into spaghetti sauce—you feel sneaky, but proud.
The Real Win: Time Together
Let’s be honest: teens are not always lining up to hang out with their parents. Between school, friends, screens, and their general “I’m-too-cool-for-everything” vibe, family bonding time has to be cleverly disguised. Game night is one of those sneaky ways in.
Because here’s the thing—once the game gets going, everyone forgets they’re supposed to be annoyed. The phones go down (okay, mostly down). Laughter takes over. There are inside jokes, dramatic dice rolls, and mock celebrations for answering a question about early Canadian explorers (finally, my Grade 10 history class pays off).
We never finish the game (because have you ever actually finished Trivial Pursuit?). We usually play for a few pieces of pie, because even when a teen is having fun, it has a short window before it’s time to move on.
But for us, it’s not about the final wedge. It’s about the conversation, the connection, and the memories. It’s also a great chance for me to drop several really bad Dad jokes.
And getting to see your teenager laugh at your terrible 80s pop culture references will never get old.
Game Night Challenges (Because Nothing Is Ever Easy)
Of course, it’s not all nostalgic bliss and bonding. Teens will test your patience. They will argue about the rules. They will spend an unreasonable amount of time deciding which piece to be (as if the little green wedge is going to give them an edge). And they will absolutely Google answers if you’re not paying attention.
You also have to pick the right time. Try suggesting a game at the wrong moment—like when they’re in a gaming session or a YouTube rabbit hole—and you’ll be met with a look that could melt glaciers. That’s why we have the most success after dinner. They are already there.
But if you can read the room, offer a few well-placed bribes (we will do the dishes to speed things up), and accept that game night might only last 30–40 minutes before someone gets bored or flips the board—it’s a win.
Final Thoughts from the Game Master
Game night in our house is usually pretty competitive and full of sarcastic banter. It’s also one of the rare times I get to peek into my kids’ world and remind them (and myself) that we still like spending time together, even if they act like it’s against their will.
So if you’re trying to reconnect with your teens, or just want to prove that yes, you do know what an axolotl is—dust off that old box of Trivial Pursuit (or heck, buy the latest version), set out the snacks, and brace for impact.
Worst case? You lose horribly, and they mock you mercilessly.
Best case? You all laugh until someone snorts root beer out of their nose.
Either way, that’s a family win in my book.
