My brother and I were the youngest members of our extended family, and thus played together with whatever toys we could find while the "adults" talked or played cards or whatever.

Depending on who we were visiting, we could have anything from Tinkertoys to a moldy 16-inch softball to stretch into an afternoon's entertainment.

When we were visiting my aunt D in Mount Prospect, the choices were painfully clear:

Dynamite Shack

or Gnip Gnop.

Those were the only two games in the house, and Dynamite Shack stopped working after awhile, thankfully. That game either caused my current anxiety problems or exacerbated them horribly. From the Dynamite Shack original instruction manual: "All you have to do is put your bundles of dynamite sticks down the chimney of the Shack. It sounds easy – but there's a catch! One problem is, you must use the clumsy 'thumbs' to pick up the sticks. The other trick is, the Shack is ticking away like a time bomb, and at any moment, 'POP' – off comes the roof. The player who gets caught must take back all the sticks put in by the other players. The player who gets rid of all his sticks first is the winner."

One of our favorite games in our own basement was Mystery Date.

Well, my two older sisters and I loved it. We didn't so much play it as make fun of the guys in the pictures, who were all from 1965 and exceptionally dorky looking. In fact, the so-called "loser" was actually more attractive than the "bowling date" with his lime green ensemble and horn-rimmed glasses, or the "ski date" in his shiny stretch pants and tassel-topped knit cap.

I can't find individual pictures of these gentlemen, unfortunately. If I do, I will first dance joyfully around the room, then post them for you.