The Tavern of the Deadworld

So many campaigns start in a tavern. It’s an easy way to put a bunch of characters in the same place at the same time. And even if you don’t start your campaign there, your players are bound to end up there at some point right?

(Very true in our experience – it’s why we have a whole line of products dedicated to making tavern visits easier!)

What about post-apocalyptic campaigns though? After watching a few different shows, we ended up playing a Deadworld campaign. It was full of zombies, ghouls, savage scavengers claiming to be saving the world, and ruins of settlements.

You know where we never went though? A hospital.

The game started some years after the world ended as we know it, and we never had a reason to visit a hospital, or what remained of one.

In our weeks (and weeks) of hospital stays over this month and last, I have been up and down so many hospital corridors and stairwells, and, especially over in Victoria (the building we are in at BC Children’s Hospital is super new) all I could think about as a door closed with an ominous noise in a seemingly deserted stairwell was: “What if there were zombies here?” (A bit over the top maybe, but being suddenly removed from everything normal in your life does weird things to you.)

As our time progressed in Victoria I realized ward doors were sealed in the evenings, I discovered new rooms, and I learned some areas of the hospital can’t be accessed from other areas – even more fuel for the apocalypse fire. My mind would wander in the hopes of not spending 24/7 worrying about my really sick daughter I could do nothing to help (though worrying about zombies lurking nearby might not have been the best use of time, or the most reassuring thing to think about).

We had a huge stash of unopened 2-cracker packages in our room, plus our own bags of granola bars, crackers and other non-perishables hidden out of view of our diet-restricted-rugrat. What was hiding in other people’s rooms? How about that snack cupboard down the hall with its own collection of single packaged crackers and digestive cookies? And that’s before you even hit the cafeteria or smash the vending machines (should you dare to make that much noise).

And medical supplies… you’ve got bandages and gauze, sterile wipes, braces, crutches, gloves, the list goes on. And wheelchairs could serve as a great way to move bundles of goods (or you know, a person unable to move easily). Plus on a pediatrics floor don’t forget the stashes of formula, wipes and diapers. No kids in your game? Diapers are still super handy for absorbing a lot of blood on an open wound, or filling with warm water and applying to the body to make accessing a vein easier. And I’m not recommending anyone try formula, but come on, if the world ended, I think we’d all take the calories we can get… and I might be more likely to try formula than roasted rat captured in the basement…. but that’s just me.

Plus, you’ve got beds, blankets and flat rubber pillows galore! These beds could be slept on for sure, but don’t forget you can use them to barricade areas, and blankets don’t just keep you warm, they can be used to block the light from the windows, ripped apart as more bandages, used to to wrap and carry items, or even altered and pinned as make-shift clothing if those open backed hospital gowns aren’t your thing and your other clothing is trashed.

So now Ken and I are thinking about returning to Deadworld, but exploring the early days, or scavenging for medical supplies in a seemingly long abandoned hospital.  (Come to think of it, one of our inspirational shows used a hospital as a home base for a time, and of course The Walking Dead starts off with Rick leaving the hospital he was admitted to for a gunshot wound, only to find the world isn’t the way he remembers.)

Except, we have no time to game as we continue to be separated by a (small) body of water.

So instead we continue to wait to be free of the hospital that is beginning to feel more like a prison than ever…

Which means we need you to let us know: have you played any post-apocalyptic games?

Were any scenes set in the hospital? And if so, did they feature Rugrat #3 and I lurking in abandoned halls, desperate to make our exit to the outside world?

The Tele-Port

We all know the drill: you cast your teleport or greater teleport spell and then: poof! You appear in your destination. Only what if that isn’t exactly how it goes? What if there is a stop on the way? A stop no one wants to, no one can, talk about?


“Please exit the circle to your left,” said a bored voice.

She blinked. She had been expecting to see bustling streets and colourful garments, to have her senses bombarded with the strong smells of spices, the murmur of thousands of people speaking in a language she couldn’t understand, and the heat of a warm sun.

Instead, she was standing in a strange room. Rows and rows of seats lined this endless expanse and she seemed to be standing in some sort of circle.

“Please exit the circle to your left,” repeated the voice. “You need to take a seat.”

Lunata blinked again and cast her eyes about for an explanation, but her feet remained firmly planted. Suddenly she realized her companions weren’t at her side. Panic began to well up inside her as she contemplated how she may have flubbed the spell. She was sure she had read the scroll verbatim, and she was sure she was capable enough to manipulate such magics now, even after that slight setback last month.  Gregor would never let her live this down, assuming he was okay.

There were a mix characters sitting in the chairs: assorted races, heights, clothing. All of them seemed bored, though a handful of them were looking at her, some with amusement, some with sympathy.

“You need to step out of the circle. Move to your left. Now.”

The voice had become impatient and she noticed a pair of strange beings made of light moving in her direction.

She looked around frantically and exited the circle, stepping to the left as the voice told her. The people made of light were almost on her now.

“Lunata Yarimania, step this way please,” said one voice. It was impossible to tell if it was male or female. It didn’t sound hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either.

“Where am I? What is this place?” She cast about once more, noting the seamless grey floor stretching as far as she could see. Circles, like the one she had arrived in, appeared intermittently in the endless expanse and rows of hard chairs, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, filled the space between the circles. Many were empty, but it was hard to tell just how many were occupied.

“Newbies, am I right?” said the second being to the first.

Lunata thought for a moment it rolled its eyes, but neither being said anything else; they simple turned and began leading her off.

She glanced at an old man sitting in a chair. He had a long grey beard and he was intently reading an old looking tome while a small black bird sat upon his shoulder, staring intently at Lunata. A glass ball lay in the seat next to the old man, glowing with the small pale white light of the stars decorating the man’s deep blue robes.

Everyone here seemed to be sitting alone and almost no one was speaking to anyone else. The silence was broken by the occasional zing of an electrical surge or a cough.

“My friends, where are they?” she tried again, hurriedly following the creatures made of light.

The first being, she thought it was the first one, heaved a sigh.

“In your hands.”

For a moment Lunata thought it was some sort of metaphor. Zanthu was always going on about the bond they all shared, about how their fates were intertwined, about how there were few people he trusted to hold his life in their hands. It always made Gregor roll his eyes. Then she looked down.

She was so surprised she almost dropped the ball she was holding. It was like the one that had been sitting in the seat next to the old man, and she fumbled to hold onto the luminescent sphere.

“Careful there,” said the second figure, and she knew it was the second figure because she could hear its amusement.

Again, Lunata cast about. Most beings seemed to have a ball like this.

A dark skinned human man with tribal tattoos, simple clothing and a staff resting at his side was holding the ball casually in one hand while absentmindedly stroking the space between the eyes of a green lizard.

An elf with long blonde hair, a rapier tucked into his belt, sat spinning the ball on his finger. His clothing looked piratical and as she walked past him he looked right at her and winked.

Lunata looked down at her own glowing orb, squinting as she did so, and gasped. There they were, both of her companions in a miniature version of exactly how they looked just before they had departed the alley behind the tavern. Zanthu looked calm, as he always did. Gregor had his eyes shut and his muscles, tiny as they were just now, seemed to be tense, as if something bad were about to happen.

They walked past several more rows of seats, many of which were empty. Lunata started as a being appeared in a circle they were passing by.

A half-orc female stepped out of the circle, holding her own glowing ball in one hand. She was dressed in leather armor, not unlike Lunata. A shortsword and a hand crossbow were affixed to her belt. She nodded at Lunata and moved toward a chair, glancing up as she did so.

Lunata looked up for the first time. She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but coloured lights made a map on the ceiling high above. They were almost like stars, but in various colours. She could see some yellow lights moving about while others remained in one spot. One of the yellow lights, which was right above her, was moving at the same speed as two bright white lights. A few other white lights were scattered about the ceiling star map, but they were off some distance away. Blue lights created circles that seemed, best as Lunata could tell, to correspond to the circles in the floor. There was a red area far off to the right, in the direction her guides seemed to be moving, and all of the yellow lights there were stagnant.

The yellow light and two white ones were approaching a blue circle. Lunata looked back ahead of her just in time. The figures had stopped and she just about run into them. The second figure sighed, as if he or she knew Lunata nearly ran them them down.

Lunata clutched her glowing orb and looked around as the two figures turned. The lights above circle spelled out a destination Lunata could not read. Suddenly the blue lights rearranged themselves into a new word, one she vaguely recalled as a place name Gregor had mentioned once.

“Well, here you are,” said the first figure. “Just a bit of paperwork to finalize first.”

“Paperwork?” Lunata almost stuttered.

The second figure smirked. She was sure of it.

“Yes, of course. Just sign here, and here,” the second figure presented Lunata with a hard board stacked with crisp white parchment unlike any the girl had ever seen.

She tried to make out the words, but there was a lot of complicated wording and very small print.

“It’s all quite standard,” said the first voice, as if that was reassuring.

“You won’t hold us responsible for any malfunctions in the circles, you understand precise destinations cannot be achieved, the level of safety, or lack of, at your destination is in no way our fault, and so on and so forth.” The second figure raised its eyebrows at her, as if challenging her, before handing her a strange hard tube she guessed she was meant to sign with.

“What is this place?” asked Lunata, still confused. She was juggling the board of paper and the glowing sphere, leaving her no hands to turn the pages on the board.

“The tele-port,” answered the first voice simply.

“There are others to tend to, so if you need more time, we can take you to the red zone. I don’t recommend that, mind you, some have been there for, I’m not even sure how long now.”

Lunata could tell this was a threat and whatever the red zone was with its stagnant yellow dots, she was sure she did not want to find out.

“I, uh, so this is standard teleportation process?” she asked dumbly, trying to flip the page.

“Indeed,” answered the first voice.

A kind-eyed halfing woman dressed in a plethora of skirts smiled warmly at Lunata. She was sitting in one of the chairs, waiting patiently by the circle Lunata had just arrived at, her own glowing orb set upon her lap with one hand gently cradling it. She nodded encouragingly at Lunata, who took a deep breath, and signed.

“Excellent. Then there, and there,” the second figure said gesturing at two additional lines on other pages. “And we’re all set.”

He snatched the board back from her and it seemed to disappear the moment it was back in his hands.

“Watch for your destination and then step into the circle,” said the first figure, turning to leave.

She glanced once more at the changing letters. She’d been there before, it wasn’t a week’s travel from her hometown.

The letters changed once more, denoting a place Lunata had never heard of and someone stepped into the circle. She wasn’t even sure where he’d come from, but suddenly he was gone.

“Don’t miss it,” said the second. “Who knows how long you’ll wait if you do.”

She glanced back hurridely at the lights by the circle which were changing once again and then, not taking her eyes off of them, for they seemed to change on a whim, she backed into a nearby chair, not far from the halfling.

“Don’t worry,” said the halfling cheerfully, “you’ll have the hang of it before you know it.”

“So, you do this all the time?” asked Lunata dumbly, still confused by what was happening.

“Oh sure, it’s how it’s done!”

“But I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have,” answered the halfling cheerfully.

“I can’t wait to tell the others,” Lanata said, partly to the halfling and partly to herself. She looked down at the orb she cradled in her own hands, the glass ball that contatined her friends and companions.

“Oh, you can’t do that,” said the halfling, rising. “You’ll see. Well, this is me. Take care and good luck!”

Lunata frowned as she watched the halfling in the skirts carry her orb into the circle and disappear. The writing around the circle shifted again then and it was her own destination she saw.

She jumped up, clutching the ball in a death grip as she scurried toward the circle.

What did the halfling mean she couldn’t tell the others? How could she not?

There was a brief flash of light as she entered the circle and suddenly she was standing on a cobbled street, the warm sun beating down on her. Her nostrils were bombarded by the smell of sweat and spices and cooking meat. Her companions were beside her.

“Great job, Lunata,” said Gregor clapping her on the back. “Knew you could do it.”

There was something she wanted to say to him, to both of them, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was.  She was trying to put her finger on it but the more she thought about it, the further away whatever it was became.

”You think you can get us back when we are done here, Lunata?” asked Gregor. “Assuming we find you another scroll anyway?”

She nodded, absentmindedly.

“I think so.”

”Let’s do this then,” he said, fingering the large blade at his waist.

Dinovember 2017

For those who haven’t heard about Dinovember: welcome! We wrote a blog post last year that can bring you up to speed, and I encourage you to check it out. For those who followed our dinoescapades last year, welcome back! We’ve been doing this for a few years now and the dinosaurs have done everything from smearing cupcakes on the cupboards to colouring on the fridge to playing with the shaving cream in the bathroom. The kids have found them building outside, hijacking a ride to school, and having music concerts. Book forts, colouring pages, cereal across the floor – they’ve all been done at least once, maybe twice.

As Halloween approached this year, I started to hear the dreaded word murmured from the corners of the house : “Dinovember.”

Almost as scary as the house on down the road with the carnival decorations and the clown hiding behind the red balloons with a bowl of candy, the word made my chest tighten. My mind searched frantically for answers. I wondered if it was too late to take a month long vacation (or send the dinosaurs on one).

dinovember mummy

After hearing at length from the rugrats that they hoped the dinosaurs wouldn’t eat their candy *again,* I had to come up with something new.

Don’t get me wrong, I love how exciting and magical Dinovember is.

I do.

And I started the whole thing in our house.

But the thing is, I didn’t expect (foolishly) that it would be such a hit. I didn’t think through the part where I would have to come up with 30 things each year for the dinosaurs to do. Or that the kids would remember just about every single thing the dinosaurs did, shaking their heads disappointingly at any repeat shenanigans. (It really is only fair I warn you, just in case you were thinking of introducing it into your household.)

So just as the pressure of Halloween costumes begin to wane, the anxiety of dinocreativity begins to rear its ugly giant reptilian head in our house.

dinovember pumpkin snowman

One of my favourites so far this year, I fear this make-shift snowman may have been part of an elaborate snow dance done by the dinosaurs as it snowed 24 hours later.

There have already been the moments of panic where I wonder what to do tonight, and sometimes I wish I could take the same tactic as some do with elf on a shelf (no way is that creepy creature coming into our house on the heels of Dinovember).

But I digress. Dinovember is happening.

It’s in full swing.

And the dinoventures abound!

Here are just a few of the things the dinosaurs have been up to this month:

Dinovember tea party

Rugrat #1 wasn’t the biggest fan of this, but Rugrat #2 enjoyed it, and Rugrat #3 loved it so much she insisted on napping with these lovely ladies, their tea set, and the table (while chanting “Tea Par-tay!” right up until she fell asleep).

 

Counting with Cheerios during Dinovember

The rugrats enjoyed the early morning snack created by this dinosaur game. The game, not so much, but it is a bit too easy for most of them (though these poor dinosaurs struggled).

 

dinosaur nests for dinovember

The rugrats, in unison, declared this “awesome.” I liked that it was super easy (and in fact done after everyone woke up, in a tiny seldom seen corner of our second kitchen).

 

castle home for dinovember

Desperate for their own place to call home, the ground-bound dinos set off on their own adventure, far from the picture perfect bird town houses. This was the biggest hit with Rugrat #3 who has exiled the dinosaurs and minis alike in favour of her ponies.

 

After last night’s hard session of castle building and takeover, the dinosaurs elected to try something a little more relaxing.

 

 

Sick of their meat and plant-based diets, the dinosaurs decided to plant a candy garden. The rugrats were sad to see the dinosaurs had stolen their candy for this fruitless project.

 

The dinos went wild with the erasable marker, colouring all over photos and the windows. The rugrats were not pleased.

 

While the two of the rugrats enjoyed a sleepover at Nana’s, the dinosaurs went went with a movie marathon – complete with snacks galore!

 

The kids thought the dinosaurs did nothing… then we found this.

 

 

 

“Yep, that’s what they did.” – Rugrat#2   Well, that’s a late night mess… and a lot of caffeine.  

So tell us, have you participated in Dinovember?

Do you know anyone who has?

If you are looking for more inspiration than our posts offer, there is tons of material out there. (Dinovember has quite the following!)

What’s your favourite one of our dinoshenanigans?

Tell us! We’d love to know. Some of our favorites haven’t been such a hit with the kids. (But man did I enjoy colouring all over the fridge and watching the kids clean that up so the dinosaurs didn’t get in trouble!)  Some of our random/last minute adventures are beloved by all the rugrats. It can be hard to tell what’s going to be a success and what will be an eye roll. So chime in! Let us know what you love!

hats

Characters Reimagined

I was scrolling through my Facebook feed the other day and found this post on 15 Disney Villains Reimagined as Princesses. It isn’t the only time I have seen something like this; there have been similar ones on Disney princesses later in their lives, Disney characters reimagined as adorable pin up girls, the 42 gender-bending Disney characters, the super creepy images of your favorite childhood characters reimagined as criminals and villains (I take no responsibility for ruining how you view these characters should you click on that link), and the less creepy young cartoon characters reimagined as adults.

Princess Jafar

Via Jessica Nahulan at Deviantart

While I think the art is absolutely stunning, I have a few issues with the first post (why does every single one have to be tiny and “perfect”? Surely Jaffar could have still been princess with a prominent nose), I do love this idea of reimagined characters, and these posts are evidence I’m not the only one.

PCs Reimagined

The same way companies like Paizo have their iconics, we seem to be hooked on recurring PCs. With six different campaigns played, four have used mostly the same PCs (well, the same PC – we play a lot of one to one gaming, so some of these recurring faces are “GM-NPCs”).

This particular PC has been created with different classes (rogue/anti-paladin, mesmerist, rogue [knife master], and now with SFRPG an envoy). She has always been human, and always charismatic.  There have been slight variants in her background, some differences in skill sets, and various alignments have been explored (from neutral evil to the most recent lawful good).

She’s had different occupations (albeit most were various versions of an adventurers), different friends (though many of the same NPCs play a prominent role in these different “lives”), and different goals, but there is still something about her that feels the same.

I sometimes think about how various versions of this character would fare if dropped into a different world/campaign. Each one has been built, more or less, for the campaign and the world it is set in – would that mesmerist have made a better ruler than the rogue/anti-paladin? Could the knife throwing rogue have succeeded in occult investigations? I’m fairly certain SFRPG’s envoy never would have managed to break out of prison and win the hearts of minds of the citizens the way the rogue/anti-paladin did.

The familiarity of this character, combined with the endless possibilities and fresh start of a new character sheet, has made for some interesting and enjoyable role playing. (Though the first version remains my favourite for numerous reasons.)

NPCs Reimagined

With these similar and yet different worlds, Ken and I find that many NPCs make a resurgence. While this started as a nod to previous campaigns, but it has become more than that.

Winthrop, a simple hunter who petitioned my first (and favourite iteration) PC, who was queen of a country, for the right to lead hunting trips in a nearby wood, was one of her best friends and adventuring companions in our Supernatural inspired campaign, and played a prominent role in the post-apocalyptic one as well.

Argus, a ship captain the same version of a PC had a tryst with was renamed Andy and was her best friend, and long time companion in yet another campaign. He’s made a reappearance in the Way of the Worlds campaign as her fiance, and has resumed his captain status with a star ship.

Way of the Wicked CoverTrik, an NPC who is part of a the published adventure Way of the Wicked, eventually devoted himself to this first iteration of my PC and her companions, but was a nuisance at best in a homebrew campaign, and actually threatened her and attacked her in another campaign. (Hmm, perhaps that’s not unlike his original nature in Way of the Wicked!)

Lys, the conniving young assistant at a church in Way of the Wicked (who did her best to undermine my PC) is the most devoted assistant in the current campaign, while Bill, a dedicated and determined cohort in Way of the Wicked repaid my PC for saving her from multiple zombies in our post-apocalyptic campaign by stealing everything from my PC while she slept.

The recent space campaign has even seen the Varisian pirate captain from my first solo campaign reimagined; now a space pirate NPC, she has had a few interactions with my PC and is bound to have a few more.

And of course there’s Davia. One of the four main PC/NPCs in one of our first campaigns, this savage blonde beauty remains so fierce and vibrant in every single one of her variants (no matter how small the cameo) she was reimagined as the top dog in our 5-star 5e NPCs: Bullies and Brutes PDF.

I love seeing a different side of these NPCs, and since their nature, their sense of duty, and their interactions with my PC are different with each campaign, their familiar face doesn’t always put me at ease (especially after that fateful night trustworthy Bill took everything!).

Have You Reimagined or Repurposed NPCs or PCs?

I have to imagine this can be a fun thing for a GM as well – why create something brand new when you can repurpose something you have? It’s great when an NPC from one campaign can appear in another one, where continuity is possible, but what if there is no continuity?

That favorite PC you created? Bring him back as an NPC in a different campaign.

That NPC or PC who was wiped out quickly because of a few bad dice rolls? Maybe in a different campaign he or she developed a little differently and has had a bit more success.

Let those characters try on a new hat, give them a chance to help you answer “what if” and see where is takes the game.

Comment Below!

Have you ever tried this? Have any of your characters made an appearance in different campaigns as reimagined versions of their former selves?

Dinosaurs go fishing

5 Things I Didn’t Do for Dinovember

Thirty days.  For Dinovember we had to come up with a new idea for the dinosaurs. Every. Single. Day. For thirty days. And with us being several years into this tradition, and the rugrats horribly disappointed if there are repeat adventures, it gets harder.

dino-builders

I always mean to spend the time between one November and the next coming up with new ideas, but time ticks by. At first I’m just happy to be rid of the prehistoric dino-trouble, and then as the next November gets closer, I get excited – but I forget to get planning.

dinosaur rockstars
So Dinovember arrives and, inevitably, midnight rolls around, I’m exhausted from being up so late working, and I curse those damn plastic reptiles – and myself for ever introducing it.  Sometimes I have something brilliant planned, sometimes something basic, but each time I was at a loss I would look hopefully at my husband and he would either suggest something that’s been done, or come up with something a little less than helpful.

dinos making Christmas cards

Here are 5 ideas I did not use this Dinovember:

  1. dinosmoothie“Just stick them all in a pot, and turn it on.  We can have a big plastic dino-soup. Maybe stick a dinosaur head on top of it. They can find it like that in the morning.” (While I was away for a night this month, he actually did go for the blender, but he fought the urge to turn it on.)
  2. “What if we just sent them to live with someone else?” (We actually sort of did this here.)
  3. “Just skip it.  Maybe they won’t notice.” (I thought about this one more than once, especially after Rugrat #1 started making his own when he couldn’t find what we set up.)
  4. “You could just hang them from the ceiling fan, Mission Impossible style.” (You know, because the kids wouldn’t use them to pull the whole fan off the ceiling, or turn the ceiling on and have the toys become dangerous weapons.)
  5. “They could kill me.  The kids could find them standing over my dead body. Please. I’m so tired. And the police would have photographic evidence of the killers.”

And now December has arrived and the dinosaurs’ home is once again the plastic bin. While I still stumble on them from time to time (darn those rugrats for not cleaning up!), the trouble they cause is mostly nil until next year. Which should hopefully mean I can spend less time assembling dinosaur buildings and accessories, and more time on writing projects.Dinosaurs watching Rex play in town.

Dinosaur terrorizes cardboard city.

And, in case anyone was wondering, Elf on the Shelf does not visit this home.  No, if that obnoxious little creature shows up here hoping for a new pose, it might just inspire me to use idea #1 above, or a Christmas variation; I’m all tapped out of creativity when it comes to toys for a bit.

Time to relax with a glass of wine and get back to thinking about gaming projects.

Merry Christmas from the dinosaurs

Dinovember

Warning: this post is a bit off topic for an RPG publisher’s website, maybe.  Humour me here.

If you haven’t heard about Dinovember yet, you are missing out.

This is a highlight for the dire rugrats in our lives, though by the end of the month it is often a burden on us as we scramble for yet another thing for the dinosaurs to do and Ken curses me for introducing it in the first place.

The dinosaurs got into the Halloween candy. It seems to be the way they start every Dinovember, and who can blame them?

DAY 1: The dinosaurs got into the Halloween candy. It seems to be the way they start every Dinovember, and who can blame them?

So here’s the deal: Dinovember started in 2012. The idea was that by capturing the moments when the plastic dinosaurs came to life and caused chaos in their house, Refe and Susan Tuma were “igniting the imaginations of hundreds of thousands of children–young and old–across the world.”

It took off like wildfire and since 2012 people have been sharing their own pictures of what their dinosaurs did last night.

With a new double toaster in the house, the dinosaurs seemed keen on making a midnight snack. Two points for team work?

DAY 2: With a new double toaster in the house, the dinosaurs seemed keen on making a midnight snack. Two points for team work?

It is a great way to get kids away from the screens, and back to using their imagination. We’ve often found our kids setting the dinosaurs up again, when they think we aren’t looking, and then announcing the dinosaurs did something else and showing us incredible and creative things. They are forever guessing what could be coming next, and they’ve learned to be really good sports when the dinosaurs have done terrible things (like eat some of their Halloween candy).

Another perk? I gained a better understanding of my toddler during Dinovember. How so? Well, I learned it is sickly satisfying to watch your kids scrub crayon off the fridge, after you had a great time putting it there. (Sorry kids – they’re your dinosaurs, you clean it up.)

The dinosaurs said goodbye to Halloween by smashing the pumpkins. "I am not impressed, dinosaurs," said Rugrat#2.

DAY 3: The dinosaurs said goodbye to Halloween by smashing the pumpkins. “I am not impressed, dinosaurs,” said Rugrat#2.

It’s a game we all get to play for the whole month. It forces Ken and me to be creative, and it helps the kids use their imaginations and believe in something amazing.

“There is only one thing that can make the dinosaurs come to life: MAGIC!” – Rugrat#1

I hope you’ve enjoyed the photos from this month so far; no doubt those dinosaurs will be up to more shenanigans before the month is through.

Have you ever done Dinovember? Share in the comments your favourite thing you’ve seen them do!