but if they reach the ball and kick it first, everyone who’s been caught is free. everyone runs and hides again while you get the ball again. anyone not caught can sneak out and try to kick the ball to free everybody. the round ends when everyone is caught. the first person caught is it next.

now go outside and play.

on that real first day of summer, whether it was due to the end of fluorescent school lighting or the beginning of hot pink peonies blooming, everything was a little sunnier and more full of color. or so it seemed. mowed lawns, dreamsicles, kool-aid tongues, robins (we could never figure out why they called them “red breast” when they were so clearly orange) — brighter colors were everywhere. and so was more sparkle—in the rainbows cast from sprinklers, the bubbles washed off cars, tin foil on grills, fourth of july sparklers, and fireflies.

school’s out at jacki paper. so put on your culottes and let’s go play.

when we were kids, sunday used to be our donut day. our dad, who usually worked six days a week, might run out on a sunday morning before church to the local dunkin’ donuts and bring us back our favorites. chocolate frosted with sprinkles. bavarian creme, boston creme. and my sister julie’s favorite, chocolate glazed.

happiness with sprinkles on top.

now that we have kids of our own, it’s kind of crazy to think that we’d give our kids fried sugar with chocolate sugar on top to start the day.

boy oh boy are they missing out.

back on grove avenue where we grew up, we knew a thing or two about recycling paper. we knew that a nice sheet of used paper could make a perfectly good toy. a paper airplane. finger football. spit balls. and best of all, that pre-cursor to the magic 8 ball—the fortune teller. also fondly known as the cootie catcher. carefully folded and licked on the edge to make a straight tear, the paper became a square, and then, fold-by-fold, it turned into our teller of fortunes.

say hello to the jacki paper wish maker. a sendable 3D greeting from recycled paper, inspired by our kidhood fortune tellers. write your wish inside (don’t tell anyone, so it’ll come true). fold the wish maker (easy peasy directions included). flatten and pop it in the envelope with the instructions for your friend. send. smile.

since i’ll be spending a lot going to the national stationery show this month, we decided on some cheaper fun. a game of monopoly junior. okay, fun might have been an overstatement for me, but not for stella, who had a blast.

back in my kidhood, we used to play board games after dinner on a regular basis. monopoly, chinese checkers, chess, life, trivial pursuit. my dad, the monopoly mogul, used to take the game really seriously, and nearly always kicked our behinds (mom never let us say “butt”). he didn’t like losing in business, not even to an eight-year-old, but i also think he enjoyed giving us lessons about money.

creative inspiration: sherbet-lickable monopoly money color palette

and that’s exactly what i loved about watching stella play. she’s five now, and not yet in kindergarten. yet there she was, adding and subtracting her monopoly money, and getting a kick out of it.

but i think the one who got the real lesson in money was me. it’s so easy to turn to paying for entertainment when you have kids. and yet there it is, in a box. free. and i suspect some day, stella will remember it more than she would the movie. just like i remember the first time i kicked my dad’s behind in a game of chess.

though i still don’t think i could beat him at monopoly.

With tuppence for paper and strings
You can have your own set of wings
With your feet on the ground
You’re a bird in a flight
With your fist holding tight
To the string of your kite

Oh, oh, oh!
Let’s go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let’s go fly a kite!

stella told my husband to go fly a kite. so they did.

stella, 5, discovered that she could really bug the heck out of giovanni, 3, by repeating everything he said. and that the madder he got, the funnier it got. my first reaction to his call for help (promptly followed by stella’s repeat of his call for help), was to be annoyed. just eat your breakfast. if you’re not talking, she can’t say everything you say.

but as i turned around, i had to hide my giggle. because the repeating game is funny. especially when you’re the one doing it. i remember trying to find new and interesting ways to bug my sisters. in particular, my older, more well-behaved sister, julie. one time, when my mom ran into the grocery store, back when you could leave your kids in the car without anyone calling the police, my younger sister jenny and i discovered that the car horn worked even if the car was turned off. so whenever anyone walked in front of the car, we honked the horn, and then ducked under the dashboard. leaving julie there to face the person’s dirty looks. ooh, she got so mad. so we did it again.

now you’d think that the best reaction for julie would be to duck under the dash with us, in which case, we would have lost interest. but she didn’t. she just kept telling us to cut it out, as she sat there mortified. so we did it again.

watching julie’s reaction entertained jenny and me no end. or at least until my mom got back to the car. it was even worth getting in trouble over, though i don’t even remember if we got in trouble.

thinking about it now, i suspect my mom thought it was funny, too. the way i thought it was funny hearing stella copy giovanni. it’s a good thing she didn’t know that kidhood joke about pete and repeat.

pete and re-pete were in a boat. pete fell out and who was left? re-pete. pete and re-pete were in a boat. . .

because then i wouldn’t have been able to hide my laugh.

so thanks a gajillion. here’s our story.

When station wagons were paneled and jello was serious.

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there are some days–and some mistakes–where that kidhood logic would still be nice.