Passover Putty Prize Palooza (with Paddles)
Amidst the suggestions of the other guests, including the kids ("I got gum in my hair once and it came out with peanut butter!") we borrowed some scissors and cut out the putty. MG sat patiently during the process, then politely asked for the putty back. RW gently broke it to her that hair-laced putty is no longer a toy, but is in fact ex-putty, that it had run down the curtain and joined the choir invisibule, and that, not to put too fine a point on it, we were going to throw the stuff in the trash.
And *that's* when the putty hit the fan, and MG, who had been the picture of polite guesthood for four straight hours, opened her mouth and screamed bloody murder. RW dragged her into the bathroom, where she alternated screaming and tearful sobbing farewells to the putty until we dragged her out of the house, calling goodbyes over our shoulders and promising to send the Prophet Elijah their way if we saw him on the way home.
The worst part: all the while, we knew there was an extra putty. But the second MG screamed, we knew we couldn't give it to her, at least not that night. The hair-trigger whining/screaming/crying combo is her Tragic Flaw, and we are determined to help her Overcome it (whether she wants it Overcome or not) by not reinforcing it in any way. We secreted the extra putty egg in our bags and will give it to her later.
The other worst part: Our hostess asked me to bring the putty partly in order to offset the paddle-ball sets (you know, those wooden paddles with a ball attached with elastic) that her husband insisted on giving, because it's his family tradition. She and I were both sure they'd be a disaster, that the kids would start zinging the balls at each other in a great Paddle Ball War. (Which, needless to say, never happened.) The putty was supposed to the the low-intensity distraction.
So, how were your seders?