A woman was lamenting to me this week that she couldn't find Scrabble in the store. It wasn't that they didn't have the game, but they didn't have the original version. This led to me bringing up how my siblings and I use to play Life growing up. We'd finish the game and they'd plead with me, "One more time! Just one more!" "Fine." With the end of the school year approaching, and this conversation, I'm thinking a lot about my childhood, especially the summers my siblings and I shared together. As the oldest, I got the job of babysitting. My siblings still give me a rough time about how many chips I gave them for lunch. Is it my fault 12 chips is a serving? Talk to the bag. Mom said one. Most days were filled with cartoons, putting on skits we made for each other (we were truckers, police who arrested people for owning dirty socks, etc.), playing board games, and the like, since we had to wait until the parents arrived home ...