Doughnut bobbing, Stratham

There was significant snow in the White Mountains, but nothing save chill and sunshine along the New Hampshire coast, our destination for my granddaughter Stasia's pre-Halloween party. One traditional game we had thought about was bobbing for apples, but my daughter, an old pro in the apple-bobbing department, dismissed that possibility as a potential germ magnet, so we settled on a more hygienic variation: attempting to snag donuts hanging from the ceiling fan blades by using your mouth alone. The kids in attendance thought that sounded like great fun, and they were having a ball. To make things a little more challenging, one of the so-called adults—OK, it was me—suggested it would be greater fun to turn on the fan and see if anyone could catch the donuts on the fly. But when my daughter pulled the chain and the fan turned faster than we imagined, sending donut pieces every which way, a thoroughly exasperated Stasia surveyed the doughy carnage and delivered an annoyed assessment. "Auntie," she huffed. "That was the worst idea ever!" Mea culpa, Stasia was right.