The Board Games You Told Us You're Playing with Your Fundraising (Part 2)

Two weeks ago we explored the 1980s board games you’re playing with your fundraising: Hungry Hungry Hippos, Jenga, Twister, and Mouse Trap. I tied it all together with a vicious Karate Kid leg sweep that made us all hit the mat. Check it out:

What 1980s Board Game Are You Playing With Your Fundraising?

There were some banger responses and suggestions in the Comments, but I’m tisk-tisking at the parents of the Fundraising for Breakfast commentariat who didn’t share a single story of ruthlessly dominating your kids at board games. I’m not the only one. You’re not fooling anybody.

Below are three more games you beautiful, creative readers proposed we might be playing with our fundraising.

Clue

Clue is a game about a murderous dinner party wherein invited guests are tasked with sniffing out a murderer, a murder weapon, and a murder site before… dinner gets cold? Before they get away? Before you’re murdered yourself? Somebody remind me in the Comments.

A colleague read Julie’s comment and thinks Clue is the perfect game to play with your fundraising: “it’s about identifying the right person, in the right place, at the right time. Which is what good fundraising does.” Without the candlestick to the side of the face and blood on the carpet, of course.

The most criminal element of Julie’s comment is the whole “made into a not so good movie in the 80s” which led to some moderate pearl-clutching directed at me offline. I submit the below clip in non-judgmental response and leave the delightful Julie Marsiglio to her own conscience:

Trivial Pursuit

Donors beware! When Kaitlyn is out raising money, she’ll hit you with “did you know that office staplers hold over 200 individual staples? No? Did you know that cucumbers are 95% water? No? Did you know…” and then keep it stacking it high and deep until you fork over your wallet. She’s charming enough to pull it off.

Trivial Pursuit can be a long game. And it can get intense. If you’re playing Trivial Pursuit with your fundraising, I suggest doing it by your own rules. Get rid of the board, chuck those pie pieces into the Hungry Hungry Hippo feeding pit, and have fun quizzing each other with the cards. Get to know each other. Learn something. Have fun. Laugh at things you should know but can’t call up in the moment. Like the below:

From left to right: Kitty, Wes, and Kaitlyn playing Trivial Pursuit by their own rules over lunch last week. Questions included “How many of the 7 Dwarves have names that end in ‘Y’?” and “What body parts do crickets use to chirp?” Neither question was answered correctly and Kaitlyn didn’t ask Kitty for money.

Operation

Cory’s onto something with Operation! Today is the day you learn that the patient’s name in the game is “Cavity Sam.” Your job in Operation is to perform expensive, unnecessary surgery on this poor bastard by removing things like his Adam’s Apple, Broken Heart, Funny Bone, Writer’s Cramp, and Wish Bone. Children preparing for a career as hospital administrators can play Operation and practice surgically removing his wallet, too!

Operation has evolved since you and I first played it. At least Shrek and Minion get to wear underpants.

Let’s start an online petition for a fundraising version of Operation to hit the shelves in time for the holidays. But instead of removing comically named internal organs, players have to sit down with a post-op Cavity Sam and convince him to make a donation to your hospital’s grateful patient program.

Clearly, a Fundraising for Breakfast game night is in order!

You’re all welcome over at our place any time to play Clue, Trivial Pursuit, and Operation. But be forewarned, game nights at Fundraising for Breakfast headquarters tend to break out in impromptu front yard soccer matches wherein I dominate my own and local neighborhood children. The below could be your fate:

Three-against-one barefoot soccer with Child #1, Child #2, and Neighbor #2 in 2016. I’m throwing a hip into a pint-sized Neighbor #2 who, let it be known, is now tall enough and strong enough to make me regret ever messing with him as a kid.