We had to go in when the street lamps came on or our mother would screech for us… loud, embarrassing, no microphone or loud horn or anything (she was good at it). Nobody cared if we put pennies on the RR tracks. We shared drinks, there was nobody allergic to nuts, and we probably were the biggest financial supporters of our neighborhood store with the dark wooden floor. If we found a pop bottle anywhere, covered in dirt or not, we could cash it in. Millie would break a popsicle in half and sell us only half a popsicle if we were running short. We ate the dirty six foot jumprope licorice after we jumped rope with it. If we found unspent strips from a cap gun which failed, we used rocks to make them bang. Wax lips were stupid.