I know instructions can be tedious, so I attempted to make them as intriguing as possible.

“Now, what do you think this piece is called?”

Sydney and her twin sister, Alex, chimed “horse.”

“You would think so, but it’s a knight.”

Alex wanted to know why, but I really didn’t have a logical answer for my 10-year-old granddaughter so I tried to get us back on topic.

“The knight is the only piece that can jump over others.”

The twins looked baffled by the revelation. I set up a few pieces on the board and demonstrated the various moves.

“You mean they can go backward?” Sydney queried.

I nodded. Not to be outdone, Alex picked up the knight, correctly moving it to one of the positions on the board. Sydney then demonstrated her knowledge, moving the knight again.

“When can we play?” Sydney asked anxiously. We hadn’t even talked about how the game is won, but it was obvious my instructions were wearing thin. They wanted the contest to begin.

I never imagined chess would become the center of attention on Thanksgiving Day.

As has become tradition, my son Ted and his family have turkey at our house for Thanksgiving and we go to theirs for Christmas. This year was a bit different. Ted’s family has expanded with the addition of a dog. Nash is a cute, yet yappy, lap dog that wiggles with excitement whenever it meets someone. Ollie, our adopted, spotted, tree-climbing coonhound, hardly pays attention to Nash, although Nash can be persistent.

“I’m not going to have the dogs in the kitchen or the dining room,” Carol declared emphatically.

Ted brought along a crate for Nash, and it was agreed Ollie would stay in his crate as usual when we had lunch. And to keep them both out of the kitchen prior to the meal, Carol retrieved a gate from the attic that we used to keep our kids, and then our grandkids, confined while they were toddlers. Justification for throwing away as little as possible: child gates can be reused as dog gates.

We were ready for the onslaught. Carol had the table set, the turkey was cooked, the potatoes mashed and the green beans ready to be steamed. All the fixings were ready and on schedule when Ted and family arrived. Erica was especially excited, explaining breathlessly that they had gotten a bark collar for Nash, using it for the first time that morning.

“It really seems to be working.”

Nash jumped out of the car to offer a wriggling greeting, his entire rear end swinging from side to side with his tail. But there weren’t any high-pitched yaps. This was an improvement. Ollie sprinted across the yard with Nash trying to keep up. The gates and the crates worked and we were able to eat without a pair of drooling dogs sitting at our sides waiting for a turkey handout.

It was during dinner that Sydney suggested we play checkers after pie. The set includes chess and the twins frequently substitute a chess piece for a double checker.

“What about chess?”

Sydney was intrigued and as soon as she finished her apple pie she was asking, “Can be play now?” Ted, Carol and the dogs went for a walk while Erica, the twins and I moved to the living room. The twins pulled up chairs around the chessboard and I began my explanation of the moves of each player.

As I said, by the time I got to the knight, patience was wearing thin and the twins wanted to get started. Pawns were expendable and Sydney had no compunction about trading queens. I suggested they might want to be a little less cavalier about their pawns. But a threat the knight had Sydney staring at the board and inquiring of her sister what to do. The game went on and on until finally all but several players and, of course, the king was left on both sides.

I marched a pawn across the board to gain a queen.

Aghast, Sydney protested, “You didn’t tell me you could do that.” I hadn’t, but even to first-time players Sydney and Alex it was evident the odds had shifted significantly and the objective of the game was to protect one’s king while trapping the other.

Ted and Carol returned from their walk. They and the dogs gathered around the chessboard. I asked the twins what moves I should make to end the game and suggested ones they could take to prolong their survival. The game had transformed from a competition to a problem or riddle that we all could be a part of solving.

As they were leaving, Ted suggested they might get a chess set for Christmas. The twins liked the idea.

It wasn’t until after they left that I realized what I especially enjoyed about this Thanksgiving. We hadn’t talked politics over dinner and that was, indeed, something to be thankful for. But the bigger gift was the absence of electronics. The girls didn’t have their iPads. Maybe Ted and Erica planned it that way and perhaps, even better, the twins decided to leave them in the car or at home.

Whatever the reason, we were engaged and person-to-person communication was king.