Child 2 had an assignment to create a board game, which I totally supported because it was going to make the board of cardboard and our garage is currently a frightening Zone of Cardboard Death because I can't bear to throw it out and haven't figured out the recycling in our neighborhood.
Basically the game simply had to include something from their current area of study which apparently is Horrifying and Deadly Diseases! (and if that doesn't scream entertaining family fun then I simply don't know what does)
I did have a few constructive ideas - like, ooh! Why not have a plague marker! So if you're struck with something really horrible and contagious you can infect others with your ooziness! Oh! Oh! And why not make it so the player can choose to infect OR can go all saintly and isolate themselves in their dreadful state of limb-dropping-offage and at the end of the turn the player can throw the dice to see if they lose or if there's a miracle and thanks to their humanitarian fabulousness they get a cure! - or - You definitely need a few god cards - like Godtopus or the Flying Spaghetti Monster or (our personal family deity) Quantos hath spoken and You! Are! Healed!
Child 2 quite irritatingly had already had a lot more interesting and amusing ideas all on its own, but I forgive it because I'm nice that way. Anyway, it hauled off a few acres of cardboard and yesterday it presented its game to the class. Then it brought the game home - thus demonstrating its utter and complete lack of understanding of the whole Cardboard Principle - and suggested we give the game a try.
Three turns in and Child 1 had THREE fabulous diseases (well, okay two and a lost spleen which meant it could contract all sorts of stuff given the chance) and I was 0 for three and feeling quite unloved. But then! Child 1 got some sort of magical wonder card and was allowed to infect the person closest so I totally got to take over ALL of those fine illnesses and not two turns later I had another two as well! It was an excellent game indeed. The only problem was we were all convinced that once one had, inevitably, died (from, say Mad Cow disease complicated by influenza and kidney failure) one should be allowed to stalk the board as Death which meant every last one of us wanted to die immediately. And be given a finely honed scythe and a natty black outfit. And speak stentoriously AND ALL IN CAPITALS.
Anybody wanna play?