For nearly a year now, my wife, Tiffany, has left Lizzie and me to our own devices one night a week, once per month to play a game I don’t even know if I can spell correctly.

Bunk-O? Bunco? Bunc-Oh!?

In any event, Lizzie and I have come to enjoy these monthly games, as it gives us a chance to sneak off – mostly to Chuck E. Cheese – and enjoy some father-daughter time over a game or 200 of Skeeball.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a group of nicer ladies than the group I’ve dubbed the “Bunco Bunnies”: Catherine Fuqua, Machele Price, Barbara Myers, Paula Parr, Angie Weeks, Brenda McDaniel, Theresa White and Stephanie McAlpine.

In that this is a ladies’ event, I’ve been run out of my house on occasion to facilitate these games. Or are they matches?

I’ve been known to give the ladies a hard time about not inviting any men, and threatened to file complaints and grievances with Bunco Associations that probably don’t even exist.

You know what threats of fictitious litigation gets you, right?

Couples’ night!

That’s right. Last night, I got my turn to play a game that only a few weeks ago I realized wasn’t played with cards. I didn’t know you could play an entire game of anything with just dice. The “Bunco Box” – where the game supplies are kept – even made an appearance at my house several months ago.

Lizzie played with the dice but I just assumed there were cards in there somewhere.

Last weekend, Tiffany — bless her heart — tried her best to offer me a crash course in the rules and regulations, but I guess I was still distraught over the lack of playing cards for it to fully take.

In my mind, Bunco was a game like Uno.

“Surely there’s a set of Bunco cards out there somewhere,” I thought.

Now, not only did I have to learn how to play this game, I had to forget how I had assumed it was played for the past year.

I can only imagine that at least some of my fellow Bunco Bunny husbands had to endure similar cram sessions over the last 30 days.

In all, it was a fun night. Too much fun and too much food. That’s my recipe for a good time.

Next month, I will assume my rightful and familiar place beside the Skeeball alley, holding Lizzie’s Chuck E. Cheese tickets.

I appreciate these ladies for letting me in their circle for one night and Chuck E. Cheese will thank you in August for letting me back out.