We took blankets from all over the house, draped them across the worn leather couch. They hung in a mixture of colors and textures,  balanced gently on chairs we had dragged from the kitchen. We climbed under our fort, into darkness. Flashlights in hand, we ate our snacks, read books and created secret clubs.

At night while our parents hosted dinner parties we played our game, “Ball in the Hall.” My bedroom was at the far end of the upstairs hallway while both of my younger brothers had rooms at the other end — directly across from one another. The rules for “Ball in the Hall” were simple — to catch the ball before it went rolling down the stairs to the lower level. I was the master roller! My brothers were not allowed to leave their rooms. With peering eyes and only quick hands (that was allowed) they had to act fast to retrieve the ball.

“I was just trying to even it out!” I had tried to explain to my parents.

My early days as a wanna-be hairdresser ended in screams, cries and a ban from scissors and rasers. My brother was brave allowing me to work on his long locks. It was supposed to be the new “cool cut” where the sides were short and the top longer. The only problem was that I had a hard time with the evening out process. Shorter and shorter it went until bald spots appeared. It would have eased the shock on my parents but unfortunately my brother descended down the stairs to show my creation in the midst of a formal adult only dinner hosted at our home. And then there was the time I tried to pierce his ear … guess they forgot to ban me from the safety pins!

We were creative — and inventive. Our parents had only allowed us one hour of television a day (GASP!) This seemed so cruel at the time but now I admit I am grateful. We were forced to create our own fun!

Today, I’m proud that my children too have the creativity and innovative components to develop their own entertainment. Who knows — maybe they are onto something with this ride they developed called “The Shredder!”

Take a look …