One girl holds her end of the rope in both hands. Another holds the rope between her stuffed rabbit’s paws, pressed tightly against her chest. Together, they lift and shake the ends of the rope. It twiches and leaps with arbitrary abandon. The rabbit’s ears flop. A third girl, the eldest of the three, stands next to the epileptic rope and hops up and down as quickly as she can, squeeling with glee.
Their mothers look on with weary despair. This isn’t the game they remember playing. What happened to the rules?
And later, when they become teenagers? Oh, God.