Besides buying myself toys?
I still tell myself stories to fall asleep. It’s where most of my good story ideas come from.
I think I just need to tell my friends, “Hey, if you see me biting my nails slap me up-side the head”… Win-Win situation.
If my mom hadn’t made me give up my Barbies in grade 7, I would still play with them (I’ll be 20 in two months). My best friend still has hers so I buy new ones and stash them there to play with. We had an elaborate wedding awhile ago and even took pictures.
Don’t judge me.
I can’t say anything. My mom bought me the new Batman toys that are meant for 5-7 year olds and I was launching the penguins that came with, uh, the Penguin, with the catapult from another little kid toy.
I do this too - comic books, action figures, stuffed animals, you name it. I recently got the cutesy “Iron Man, Hall of Armor” pack of four action figures. They’re meant for five year olds, and come with big feet so they wont easily fall over.
My nephew is allowed to play with them, except for the one with the mask off - tiny Tony Stark is mine!
Except when I’m sleeping somewhere other than my own bed, I always sleep with a stuffed gray bear that I stole from my sister when she outgrew such things and was going to get rid of him (she’s five years older than me, so I was fairly little when this happened). His name is Edward.
I have no qualms about sitting or laying on the floor. Ever. If I can also whine while doing so, even better.
If someone is in the bathroom when I need to use it, this song will invariably be sung:
I gotta go pee
I gotta go pee
My bladder might burst
This just is the worst
I gotta go peeeeeeee
Otherwise, I’m perfectly mature and well-adjusted.
I did this tonight. It’s fun. The cats think I’m nuts, my husband (who knows I’m nuts) joined in. He has a bass voice, so his attempt to do a squeaky “Oooh snacks!” added to our glee.
Snacks taste much better when one is pretending to be a T-rex.
I will teach the grandbrats this. 
I sleep with a stuffed shark that my husband bought me for our wedding. He goes on all trips with me, and I even knitted him a sweater when I was just learning how to knit. 
Same here. Only it’s for my cats. I’ll sing, dance, talk to them in baby talk or even words that don’t exist (well, yet anyway).
“woogie woogie…neegie oogy boogy? Eeky teeky.”
My friends and I write out short scripts. We then design tiny sets in shoe boxes with construction paper and such and then take pictures to illustrate the story using gummi bears as the characters. The awesome knows no bounds.
I still sleep with Sprinkles, my teddy bear, who I have had since I was two or three years old. I also still play with Legos. And, on rare occasions, Play-Doh.
Don’t they though?!?
You might also want to try this: Do the T.Rex arms. Grab a glass. Make the growly noises. Lift drink to mouth (using T.Rex arms…no movement from the elbows! and holding the glass not in your hands, but in your fingers…ie. your extended claws), then slurp. Works best with juices, I find. And beer. This one really impresses girls at pubs.
<blushing>
I’m 39 y.o.
I’ve had braces, etc.
And when, stressed or relaxed. (It’s an odd dichotomy)
I suck my thumb.
At this age, I’ll not do it for a very long time and then I will.
Twenty-two feet? Wow, that’s quite a Pound Puppy. 
My brother still sucks his thumb when he sleeps. He’s 66.
I’m 63, and no longer wet the bed. No “Depend” jokes, please.
I do this, too. I’m constantly making up stories in my head, and the ones that have sold the best are usually the ones right before I drift off. The stories have matured significantly since I was young, but they’re always in the third person. At some point I made the mistake of telling my mom what I was doing and her response was to tell me that I shouldn’t daydream so much because it would make me insane. She said that doing so could make you lose touch with reality so you think the story is real. So to avoid that happening, I’ve always told myself stories in the third person and rarely even write in first person. I now know that simply telling stories to myself in the first person won’t make me crazy, but I’ve never been able to shake the habit.
I also don’t like to be in a dark room alone. When I turn off all the lights at night, I’ll make a trail of lights - the living room light, the light in the bathroom and the light in the bedroom. I’ll turn off the living room light first, as physically close to the bathroom as possible, then the bathroom light, as close to the bedroom as possible, then I’ll scamper into bed. Only then will I turn the bedroom light off. I’m not scared of the dark and regularly stumble through the blackness when my child wakes in the middle of the night, but when I’m fully awake and my eyes aren’t used to it, it makes me uneasy.
When I’m walking along, I sometimes find myself avoiding the cracks in the pavement.
TOTALLY do this!
I make up silly nonsense songs about whatever I happen to be doing. Like “Oh I’m making a saaaandwich. It’s a tasty tasty saaaaandwich.” when I’m making lunch, or “La la la, where are my pants? La la la, where is my shirt?” when I’m getting dressed. Drives my husband nuts.
I’m pretty much childish in everything I do. Not really the negative kind of childish, because I think I’m responsible. But I use nonsense words, I have songs for everything, a weird vocabulary used only with my dog, I watch cartoons, and I play with toys.
I’m lucky I met someone who’s equally as childish. One night, we put on my fleece hat with cat ears and recorded ourselves meowing.