Well, my brothers and I used to hunt for “men from mars” while riding around in the car. Er, men from mars were fire hydrants, because an uncle told us they were. So, one brother got to look out one side, the other brother got the other side(they were both older than me after all) and I always got to look in the middle of the road. I didn’t figure out for years why I never seemed to find any.
Then, there was the game that we played with the next door neighbor. Er, I’ll apologize for the name now, and state that I had nothing to do with the invention of the game. it was called “smear the queer with the ball”.(ok, this was late 70s/early 80s) Basically, it involved running like a bat out of hell after whoever had the ball, then attempting to beat them up. They could, however, throw the ball to you at any time, and you had to catch it. Then, they tried to smear you. It could go on for hours, or at least until dark.
Yes, I was the only girl in the neighborhood, and I was a little hellion because of it.