I remember my very first game of Monopoly. My Dad beat me. By a LOT. But he graciously allowed me to feign extreme tiredness and retreat to my bedroom for the night without having to go through the painful ending of handing over all my cash and properties and houses.
I got better at losing, and even won sometimes, but the memory of that first game has stuck with me. It encapsulates many parts of the overall person my Dad is: smart, humble, gracious, kind, to name a few.
Playing Monopoly with my daughter last night, I was reminded of that first game, and of how 30 or so years later I still remember so well something as simple as a single game of Monopoly with my Dad. Nobody's perfect all the time, but it's good to remember that all the little day-to-day things matter, because one of those just might be one of the things my daughter carries forward for the next 30 years as a vivid memory of me.
My favorite piece is the car.