Family Game Night

While we're all waiting for Aunty Margaret to post the definitions over on the Balderdash Blog, let's play a little game. A picture game.

First: What do all of these things have in common?
What do you suppose this is?


  1. I was going to say "All the things that Hannah has tried to eat today."....but I have NO IDEA what the second one is...and I don't know if I want to know.

  2. YA. I agree with Shirley on the first one. Things you have taken out of Hannah's mouth.

    The second one looks like...well I won't go there.
    But I think it is something he didn't want to finish eating at school and got sent home in a baggie for later.

  3. Picture one: All the things you dredged out of Hannah's mouth. Picture number two: LOL I know what that is so I won't give it away. It is NOT something your dredged out of Hannah's mouth and it is not a souvenir of Frankie's that somehow accidentally got home with you

    Hey is that my phone? Is all that stuff things that got from my house to your house. I am going to go and have a second look.

  4. Ah rats, not my phone and not my stuff.

  5. I know everyone else probably guessed the right one, but I'm gonna say... things you found in your couch.

    And I think that little thing in the baggie looks like a moulded caramel.

  6. I agree with everyone else on the first one, but I think the second one is a pretzel made by Sammy of a side view of his fist.
    Or maybe clay.Looks like his thumb over his fore-finger. I can even see the thumbnail.

  7. You solved the first one. My facebook status probably helped.

    I'll tell you about the second one later.

  8. ok, I am sure it's caramel or something but it looks like poop to me.

  9. Don't tell Sam that.

    So, we've established the top one is a picture of things I took out of Hannah's mouth today... The bottom?

    Aunty Susan was the closest. Sammy's preschool class made gingerbread men and got to take their leftover dough home with them. Sam made his into a "wormy". I found it on the counter in our kitchen and burst out laughing, and made some kind of remark to Glen to which he replied, "It's not poop, it's Sam's worm."

    At which point Sam bursts into tears, insisting that it's a wormy and NOT poop, and "Don't call my wormy poop!!!!"

    I blame Glen. He could have corrected me a little more quietly. Or I blame his teacher who should have labelled his bag:

    "Samuel's Wormy. NOT poop."


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