The Best Toys Don't Need Batteries and Don't have Screens

It's only the third week of June. The weather is too hot and the rain won't go away. The kids are sick of Roblox. They've already read a book. The activity of choice right now is squabbling. About everything.

Those bickerfests can drive you nuts. You can't sell kids. Locking them in closets is severely frowned upon. Stick with me; I can rescue you.

I've told you before that I have six kids and 15 grands. I've had to think outside the box to survive. For that reason, eighteen years ago, I dragged out a toyset I had had when I was a kid back in dinosaur days. I had it because it was one of my dad's favorites when he was a kid, and he had kept it.

The toy in question, Bill Ding stacking clowns, was debuted by Stombecker Company in 1931, when my dad was 8 years old. Chicago Cutlery bought Strombeck in 1980. Bill Ding was intended to foster hand-eye coordination, and of course, kids didn't give a ratzpatoot about any of that.

All about Bill Ding

With rain drumming down, for the third time today, I heard the whining little voice, "Yiayia, tell Beckett it's my turn to use the iPad!" I took the boys by the hands and walked them to the toy closet, where Bill Ding was quietly resting.

"Oh, yeah!" the oldest cried. "There's those cool guys!" And the problem was solved.

Bill Ding is a set of a dozen little clowns that kids can stack in a bunch of different ways or simply line them up across the floor. They are made of wood, not plastic, and brightly colored. They have smiling printed faces and wear silk-screened suits with cool clown buttons printed on them. They are pretty easy to find online, either in vintage versions or newly manufactured by Chicago Cutlery. Some sellers premium price them at around $50 a set, but searching turns up sets from around $15 and up. Worth every penny.

Each guy is 4 ½ inches tall and has notches cut into every joint and on the tops of their head.

Those notches make it easy to connect them in all sorts of configurations, using any number of clowns. It takes moderate balancing skills and a little practice to make impressively complicated structures with multiple sets, though even 2 year olds can manage to satisfyingly stack them up a couple at a time. When a stack of Bill Dings is knocked over, the sound is quite satisfying to any kid.

To the delight of parents, these clowns store nicely in a two-gallon ziploc bag. They're durable enough that the set I bought 18 years ago looks brand new. I'm watching my seven-year old and 4 year old line them up on a soccer pitch they built with a throw rug.

They have been playing with these clowns for three hours now and have not carped at each other once. They made a tower of 24 Bill Dings and kicked it over. They built a log cabin and allowed two clowns to eat lunch in it. They line up a dozen Matchbox cars and let the clowns Godzilla that world. A lot of giggling. A lot of imagining.

Why I'm sharing this

The kids are here while their parents are out buying a new car, and it matters to me that the kids have fun when they visit. From time to time, I go in search of toys I remember from my childhood. If I remember them, I must have liked them. The quest is a diversion in itself.

So far, my family and I have explored Tinker Toys, Block City ( a forerunner of Legos), Click Clack Blocks, Colorforms, felt boards, and a few others. It's nostalgic for me, and once in a while, I knock it out of the park—as I did with Bill Ding. Some of the other toys are just too gimmicky to have legs and last, but what a win when Grandma can give the kids hours of simple enjoyment.

Not many toys provide generations, decades, and hours of imaginative entertainment, but Bill Ding has passed the test of time.

My eldest grandson is going into the Navy in two days—he was two when I bought the current sets of Bill Ding. He and his 14 cousins have enjoyed the heck out of those little colorful men. I get right in there and play with the kids and the clowns, too.

And there's the bottom line. When the kids get antsy and same-old-same-old doesn't cut it, it's a joy to look back in time, think outside the box, and come up with playthings that don't require batteries.