Batteries Not Included: The Joy of Playing Like It’s 1985

There’s something strangely hilarious—and unexpectedly heartwarming—about watching a kid today try to figure out a Slinky. No Wi-Fi, no screen, no app—just a shiny coil of metal that walks downstairs if the planets are aligned just right. And yet, somehow, it still sparks joy.

In an era of AI assistants and 3D-printed rocket launchers, diving back into the low-tech toy chest of our childhoods feels like a ridiculous, magical time warp. And it’s funny—not just in a nostalgic, “I used to love this” kind of way—but in a belly-laugh, “how did this ever entertain us for hours?” kind of way. And yet, it did. And somehow, it still does.

Let’s talk about the classics. Remember Etch A Sketch? Two white knobs and an unreasonable amount of hope. One wrong twist and your masterpiece became modern art. Now, hand that to a child raised on iPads and Photoshop and watch as they squint, twist, panic, and ultimately create a square. Maybe.

Then there’s the yo-yo. It’s the great equalizer. Adults who once ruled the playground with “Walk the Dog” are now rediscovering the sheer danger of “Around the World” to ceiling fans and innocent bystanders. It’s a toy and a weapon, all in one. Give it to a kid who thinks everything should respond to voice commands and you’ll hear them shout, “Yo-yo, go back up!” as if it’s disobeying them on purpose.

Don’t even get me started on wind-up toys. The kind that buzz in a straight line for three seconds before flipping over and giving up on life. Today’s kids see them like little mechanical mysteries. No batteries? No Bluetooth? No problem. Just wind, release, laugh, repeat. There’s an awkward charm to toys that make noise not from a speaker, but from rusty gears and ambition.

And of course, the crown jewel of chaos: the Lite-Brite. Tiny plastic pegs, lost forever in shag carpet, arranged into glowing smiley faces or vaguely threatening abstract art. Try explaining to a six-year-old that this was our idea of “digital design.” They’ll blink twice and ask if it connects to the internet.

But here’s the truth behind the laughter: those low-tech toys still work. Not perfectly. Not consistently. But they do something our high-tech gadgets often fail to do—they make us play. Real, hands-on, no-rules play. They force creativity, trial-and-error, and often, teamwork. They’re so simple, it’s funny. And because they’re so simple, they’re timeless.

What’s even better? Watching your kids play with the very same toys you loved. There’s a quiet kind of joy in seeing their faces light up over a toy that doesn’t beep or flash. You see their imaginations kick in, their curiosity take over. It’s like watching your own childhood replay in a new chapter—only this time, you’re the audience. And it’s pure magic.

What’s even funnier is watching grown-ups rediscover these relics. You think you’re introducing your kids to “the old stuff,” and next thing you know, you’re building a Lincoln Log fortress and refusing to let them tear it down. Or you’re knee-deep in Play-Doh, trying to sculpt a dinosaur and ending up with what looks like a nervous potato. And you love every second of it.

So yes, the toys your parents played with are low-tech. They’re awkward, squeaky, often wildly inefficient—and absolutely delightful. In a world that’s always upgrading, sometimes the best kind of fun is the kind that’s been gathering dust in your attic.

Next time you’re tempted to upgrade your kid’s toy box, try downgrading instead. Pull out the View-Master, the paddleball, the box of marbles, and get ready to laugh harder than you have in years. Because fun doesn’t always need an app—or batteries.

Sometimes, all it needs is imagination… and someone to share it with.