Reaction game.
The "-" Means I only decided to mark my reply.
Say a random color!
-Yellow!
/.../
Say a car color!
-Yellow!
/.../
Say a house color you see outside!
-Yellow
/.../
Say a ceiling color!
-Yellow!
/.../
Name one of your teachers!
-Potato!
Krissu named our maths teacher, it's like an automatic reaction xD
/.../
Name an animal starting with "H"!
Me: Hammer!
Krissu: Hamlet!
/.../
Name an eyeshadow color!
-Yellow
/.../
Name a candy!
A friend: Skittles! (Except for "h" instead of the k)
/.../
Name a company!
"Kalev" comes automatically, it's a candy&chocolate company in Estonia.
Name a company, not Kalev!
-Eh... Pampers!
A diaper company? come on.
/.../
Name a school lesson!
Krissu: Maths!
Me: Um..Eh..Wait, what did you ask?
/.../
Name a person you hate!
-Potato!

I love reaction game.

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

"Information."

"I hurt my finger.." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "

Found this on someone's blog, had to repost it. I love this story.

I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a Cashier hand this little boy some money back.



The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old.



The Cashier said, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll."



Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: ''Granny,

are you sure I don't have enough money?''



The old lady replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''



Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly.



The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.



Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.



"It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas.



She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."



I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.



But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there."



His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.''



My heart nearly stopped.



The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall."



Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me."



"I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."



Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.



I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check

again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''



"OK" he said, "I hope I do have enough." I added