No... not aggravat-ING.  Aggravation.  The game.  Uncle Oscar made us all boards at one point.  I wish I had one.  Any gathering at Grandma's was sure to include a game of Aggravation or three.  These games were long, loud, and fun.  The rattle of the dice, the clank of the marbles as they rolled across the dimples in the wood.

There were six or eight (depending on the board) "Homes" and we all had marbles on our homes.  We'd roll... the die dropped in a hole.  "Diaper Rash".  We'd roll again.   A six.  Wahoo!  On my hot-spot.   It's a six so I get to roll again.  Four. Two away from "Safety".

If you were fortunate, you'd roll "just right" and get to center and then right back down your side- skipping half the board.  Around the board we'd race.  Sending each other back to our "starting spots" and then finding ourselves back at square one as well.  We'd finally get to that final bar.  There are five marbles in our home.  We're nearly there with the last marble.  So is Uncle Oscar.  Mom isn't far behind.    Mom rolls three sixes in a row.  She can't advance but she can roll again.  Uncle Oscar gets a 1.  He only needs a three and he's in.  Dad rolls.  He gets a five.  Puts him within a "one" of his final spot.  I roll a six.  I roll again.  Two.  Drat.  Two more holes to go.

Uncle Oscar rolls.  It's a three.  He wins.  Oh well, Scarlett O'Hara was right.  "Tomorrow is another day."