Catfacehorse

When I was a kid, I used to take playing very, very seriously. My sister and I would make up games, then spend hours making all the components necessary. In fact, it was the making that was usually the most satisfying. I decorated the dollhouse my dad built for me with little carpet offcuts, I painted tiny little cardboard landscape scenes for the walls, and using a trick my cousin taught me, made little loaves of bread from carefully shaped corks cut with my pocketknife. We would get out our little family of bears (me) and rabbits (my sister) and put them into the miniature environments we had created. If one of us happened to get bored and slip out of character, the other would whinge ‘be serious’, and the game would continue.