Lately, the only game Owen wants to play is marbles. I remember so well when I was in the 1st and 2nd grade, living in Wisconsin, playing marbles in the dirt with the neighborhood kids. Thinking of that one boy who would steal all my good shooters. Still makes me mad! He was the boy to beat, and I can still remember when I sent him home crying. It seems like such an old, fuddy duddy game that I was surprised at how much he enjoys it. That is, until he gets his butt kicked by his momma. I was a pretty mean marble shooter back than, and I havnt lost the skill! And yes, as you can see, we have joined the realm of silly bands, or however they are spelled. We only have 1 pack, but that equals 12 fun little rubber bands that stop up vacuum cleaners like a charm. It also equals having a crazed son searching the aisles of whatever store we are in, may it be target or rei or the post office, in the every pursuit of these things.