This Game Needs A New Name

One of the most enjoyable aspects about raising kids has been the opportunity to pass on games and activities and tradtions that I played as a kid.

And just this week I remembered a new one.

Funeral.

I think we made it up one long ago Virginia summer at the Wickstrum’s farm.

It’s a simple game, really.  Probably born of hot summer days and looking for excuses to not run around outside.

One person pretends to be, er, dead.  The, uh, dead person lies on the ground alone, arms crossed.  After the deceased is lying still and his face is composed, the other players enter the room.

The goal of the game is to make the deceased laugh.  Out loud.  Smiling is acceptable.  Laughing means you lose.

And as far as the laughing tricks go – no touching allowed.  This laughter can only be caused by your words or your silly actions.  But no touching or tickling the, uh, dead player.

I explained the rules of the game to London, Mosely, Bergen and Piper.  (We tried to coerce Riley into playing, but she was apparently busy with homework or something.  And we knew Fox would never abide by the no touching rules so we counted him out for now.)

The game – Funeral – was an immediate success.

We played and played.  Laughed and giggled.  Hilarious.   I loved seeing what each little Keigley faced kid thought was worth laughing (and thereby losing) over.  Sounds made Bergen chuckle.  Mosely could hardly keep a straight face when she heard the footsteps of her siblings entering the room.  Piper was surprisingly good and would have likely been the victor every time except she wanted to please her big brother and sisters so she would offer the pity laugh after their efforts proved fruitless.

I was ultimately dragged into playing the game, lying on the floor, arms crossed as the kids entered the room.  They were full of giggles and funny faces.  Actually, it was loads harder to keep a straight face than I expected.  Just the angle alone was pretty comical.  Seeing four dangling faces, giddy with their own nonsensical jokes, was almost too funny to stay calm.  But remain calm, I did.

Until Piper Finnian came running up to my face – no more than two inches away in fact.  (Almost, but not quite, breaking the no touching rule.)

And then she shouted, probably the best thing she could think of.

Two whole years of life, her little best comeback.

Rising to the occasion,

joining her siblings in a fascinating game,

Piper said,

“You smell like bikes.”

Try to convince me you would not have laughed right then.

Anyway, that’s when I lost that round.

I love the game – it meets all my basic requirements of a good game.  You can play it anywhere.  All ages can participate at their own level.  There is nothing to set up.  Any number of people can play it.  And it is absolutely free.

I think it needs an updated name, however.

Any suggestions?

(So I can pass this tradition on without shame.)