another year, another Hallowe'en Hallelujah party

For the past year, whenever we visit Lynchburg and happen to be at my in-laws' church, Colin has talked with great fondness of the trunk-or-treating he did there last year.

So of course we went again this year, despite the noise and blood-curdling cheer.

I have found that one way to navigate uncomfortable social situations is to distance myself by means of intellectual curiosity. If I think of myself as on an anthropological expedition of sorts, I can view almost anything with a certain level of detachment and equanimity. Of course, this attitude carries its own dangers-- I do not actually want to cultivate contempt for people or even only to objectify them.

Some of that awareness and concern must have been on Peter's mind when he chided me for taking pictures of some of the games in the fellowship hall.



"Sherri," he hissed, "It's not a cultural artifact!"

I just looked at him.

"Well, okay, actually it is, but you know what I mean."

What have we got there? A blindfold on the floor, some band-aid wrappers, a picture of a guy....covered with bloody slashes?



I bet the name of this game was something like "The Good Samaritan Game" or a similarly benign designation. I prefer to call it "Stick the Band-Aid on the Martyr."

Then there was the "David and Goliath" game, aka "Little Jessalyn Makes Her First Kill." Goliath had been pre-trepanated for her slingshotting convenience.



Some horrors are less graphic than others, but no less horrible for that, especially when the victims have no voice.



Stand in line and pitch a ping-pong ball at the table top; if your ball lands in a fishbowl, you get to take the fish home with you, and the fish gets to take his PTSD.

Just LOOK at the fear on his face.



You have my sympathy, little fish. I've been there.

8 comments:

a Tonggu Momma said...

Oh. My. Word. I feel terrible laughing at this post, but I can't seem to help myself. Those poor fish. And the children. Oh, the children.

What in the world is the name of this church? (Wait - don't tell me. Not that you would. You don't seem the gossipy type.)

happygeek said...

The church I taught at in Texas had a Hallowed Be Thy Name Party. I think they got the games the same place as your MIL's church.
LOVVE the fishbowl game. PTSD. Too funny.

M. Robert Turnage said...

All I'm sayin' is that there should have been at least one game about leprosy.

Recovering Sociopath said...

tonggu momma, I linked to the church in last year's post, which I linked to from this one. So you can figure it out if you really want. They are really very sweet people. I just have to take my fun where I can find it.

Robb, if you develop a leprosy game concept that I can actually execute given the restraints of my limited time and budget, I will have it at Colin's birthday party in January. And I'll post pictures. ;)

Kimberly said...

I really DO wonder what the heck the band-aid man was supposed to be.

Wonder if there is someone you can ask.

Jen said...

wasn't he the man the good samaritan helped?

Hairline Fracture said...

Oh my goodness, I wonder what visitors (who normally don't go to church) thought.

We had a treasure dig and face painting. Props to our children's pastor for being normal (but it's not as funny as this festival, of course!)

Zanshin said...

Since my first halloween costume that I remember was a leper, that's a special association for me. It works, too - lepers are biblical, scary, mostly dead by now, and sometimes saints. So here are some ideas for leprosy games.

Bobbing in the Jordan:
You are Naaman and have leprosy! Elisha tells you you have seven tries to pick up an apple with your teeth out of the Jordan river. If you win, you are cured.

Robtert the Bruce's Heart Toss:
You are Robert the Bruce and recently died of leprosy! You requested that after your death, your heart be cut out and carried "against the enemies of the name of Christ." Toss heart-shaped balls to try to hit the pictures of the Moors.