At Christmas dinner we played "the sticky forehead game"—which I'm sure has a more generally accepted name, though I will deny it—where you write something on a piece of paper that is then affixed to your neighbor's forehead without them reading it. Everyone can see what everyone else is, but to each individual their own identity remains a mystery. You then take turns asking a single question about yourself, with the winner being the first person to deduce what they are. The theme was "Christmas stuff" so we had snowflake and chestnuts and elf and so on. I was fruitcake, which everyone found uproariously funny.*
For my neighbor—a child—I chose disappointment. This caused a brief stir of shocked sensibilities—but your post has proven me far more right than mere holly.
*There was a brief attempt to make "fruitcake" my new nickname, which I countered by declaring that every time someone called me "fruitcake" I would respond by saying
Spoiler (click to reveal)
aloud. Smothered it like a pillow pressed to an invalid's face.