Ha-ha! I don’t have anything like that, but there was that one year when my oldest son turned eight. The boys went outside and had a big snowball fight with the real stuff that had fallen out of the sky, until one of the twins got hit between the eyes with an ice ball launched by the older neighborhood bully who was just passing through. So they all came inside for pin the tail on the donkey, cake, ice cream and gifts. The next part I remember is the parents coming to pick up their kids. One of the twins had bloodshot eyes and the other was handcuffed to our kitchen table with the very gift they’d brought to the party and the key was nowhere to be found. I mean nowhere.