Play

My young niece occasionally spent time at my house this past year. My home does not have video games, fancy toys or a backyard full of play equipment. That didn’t seem to matter, however, as long as my candy bowl was well-stocked and the world of make-believe was at her fingertips. Her favorite activity was to play “office.” She would pull up a hassock toward an end table by my couch. The table was supplied with the following accouterments: a cup filled with pens, pencils and markers; post-it pads in different colors and sizes; a calculator; paper; a colored pencil set and, of course, snacks. It was never discussed but it was clear that my niece was the CEO and I was the administrative assistant. My job was to answer to the beck and call of a busy six-year-old company executive. My paycheck was the chance to make time stop for awhile and just play.

The world of make-believe was a dominant part of my growing up years. The absence of a computer, video games, TV, sports (thank goodness for me on that one) and fancy toys meant that my siblings and I were often compelled to invent our own entertainment. One of my personal favorites was playing “plane crash.” This rather macabre re-enactment involved lining my sisters up on the couch with their dolls and pillows. I was the stewardess, barking out the orders for our flight and our inevitable crash. When the point of crisis was imminent, I was the one with all the rescuing advice involving the protection of the babies and huddling up with the pillows. I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day analyzing this game, but, I thought it was fun, in a creepy sort of way.

We also played church. My sisters were lined up on the couch with their dolls, a songbook and a Bible. I, of course, was the preacher and the organist. My propensity toward being the bossy one in charge started young, obviously.  I don’t think the church game ever lasted very long due to my lackluster preaching and my rudimentary attempts at playing a few hymns.

Another favorite activity was playing dress-up. My cousins and my sisters had grand fun digging into my grandmother’s dress-up bin. We planned elaborate style shows in our gauzy, drapey, oversized fashion designs. We clip-clopped our way down imaginary runways in our teetering high heels and strutted our claim to stylish fame. Hours of time passed with the contents of one bin of used clothing. Cheap fun.

Occasionally, my sisters and I would set up a bakery. This involved two basic ingredients: dirt and water. We would mix the ingredients to just the right consistency and make mud cakes of all shapes and sizes. Little sticks and grass pieces served as decorations on our masterpieces. We would climb atop our dad’s feed grinder (a piece of farm equipment that had a flat top) and let our cakes bake in the sun until they were dry and ready to serve. Business was a little slow for our finished products, but enough fun was had in the process that all was well.

One product that we actually did have a market for was our hobo toast. We would take a large empty can and build a small fire under the open end of the can. When the can was hot we would take a piece of buttered bread that had a small hole cut out of its center and place it on the surface of the can. An egg was poured into the center of the bread and in a few minutes the whole concoction was flipped and ready for serving. I think we even enticed our brothers into this activity due to the food factor.

I hope you all have memories of make-believe worlds that filled your childhood. I would love to hear about some of them if you have a few moments to share your thoughts. Playing is always more fun with a friend.