Running across people's yards in the neighborhood when playing. No one seemed to mind. Some house had rhubarb patches, and we'd sometimes chew on the rhubarb after brushing the dirt off, and make faces at its tartness. When the parents wanted us to come back, they'd hang out the back door and yell for us.
Parents would send me to bed, and I was reading. I'd ask to leave the hall light on, although I've never been scared of the dark, but they didn't know that. I'd sit up in bed and read by that light. Parents might try to sneak up the stairs to check on me, but I knew each creak by their weight, and they'd always find me "asleep." If they'd checked under my pillow, they would've found the book.
Etch-a-Sketch.
Kaleidoscope.
Chinese checkers with the old lady next door.
Chess with my dad. He usually won, but not always.
Board games at home. We had our favorites. "Sorry" for a quick, easy game, and "Monopoly" to kill more time. Also card games; usually gin rummy, although they taught me hearts and spades.
Always a jigsaw puzzle in progress on a card table somewhere.
Riding a bike all over town without a helmet, away from home for hours at a time, just like everyone else.
Finding my dad's "secret" stash of Playboys. I think that brought me into puberty.
