100% a Traitor

You know you’re an adult in 2026 when it’s been the longest January ever, it’s still winter and The Traitors season 4 is over.

Me: I will not let murder, betrayal and lies dictate my life

Also me: *buys The Traitors board game*

That’s right, you know you’re truly an adult in 2026 when you bought The Traitors board game over the festive period – giving you an excuse to finally banish family members that you don’t like.

Is that not how it works?

Me: let’s play something wholesome and jolly

Also me: you know what this needs? Cloaks, daggers and a big family fallout

First off is a moment of appreciation for the level of dedication my parents went to in hosting a Traitors board game evening.

There’s nothing like returning to your childhood home to see your mum and dad dressed in cloaks, holding lanterns and hurriedly passing your husband a wax sealed envelope demanding we go into the kitchen, where everyone’s seats were labelled with poorly spelled name tags.

I should have seen it coming. There was the time we recommended they watch Downton Abbey, only for us to receive a formal invite in the post from them demanding we go round for dinner – then my Dad answered the door like this:

Before you ask, yes I do see a therapist.

As the person who was in charge of reading the instructions and understanding the game, I was delighted to discover that I was also the Traitor – no pressure whatsoever.

Quite quickly I murdered the family friend, blamed it on my dad, the other players followed suit, nobody won the end game and they were all horrified by what I’d done.

Nothing prepares you for the sheepish exit when it’s all over as you cackle awkwardly and say ‘same again next year?’

Strangely, The Traitors wasn’t the best board game I played recently. A week before, my friend and I merrily arrived at our friend’s house and dived head first into a game of Poo Bingo.

Aside from shouting ‘I need wombat poo to win!’, the best part of the game was, in true dedication to the game, when her little boy farted and blamed it on me.

FYI, when you fart at the gym and blame it on other class members they don’t find it as funny.

Right, now if you don’t mind me, I’m off to dig around in the games cupboard and see what mischief I can create next.