What was fun to me was tiny magical toys, being in the woods, reading, talking, and thinking. I only had one fairy winkle as a child but have since used ebay to build a collection that I then spent upwards of 10 hours building a tree home for. Yes I still sometimes take them out in the woods to play. Trees are even more important to me now that I have learned more about them and become able to connect with them in a mutual way.And books? Even though I don't have unlimited time to read anymore, I have 500+ books now and I still carry a book almost everywhere I go. Talking is still a favorite: not chatting, mind you, but communicating a mutual sharing of meaningful thoughts. Like discussing relationship difficulties or the nature of reality or the possibilities that lie in what we do not know.
And thinking. I don't sink into it as deeply as I did as a kid because the fantasies about my own house and land and snow leopard now have become a little worn, and a little tinged with the sorrow of slim chance. But I am never bored if I can think. If I have to pay attention to something that prevents me thinking, I will nearly die of boredom, but otherwise, my mind is a playground.
I've heard many people express longing for a return to childlike wonder, for the freedom of childhood. I wasn't free as a child, and maybe that's why the things in which I found joy became so deeply a part of me. Or maybe I just experience less shame than most and can embrace these things as much as I ever did. Or maybe because I thought so much about how I was devalued for being a child, I determined that I would never see childish things as lesser, and kept my word to myself.