It was one of those rainy, icky days that drove Mom nuts, as all six of us kids were housebound and fighting like cats and dogs. Actually, we snuck in a barn cat and let the dog in the back door for some exciting entertainment, but it backfired on us big-time. The cat was halfway up Mom’s newly ironed drapes while the dog had a hold of the bottom, shaking the living daylights out of them.

When Mom heard the commotion from the kitchen and rounded the corner, we were all toast. The dog laid down and tried to hide his head with his paws, the cat ever so slowly backed down from his stronghold, and you could have heard a pin drop as six children held their breath.

Mom looked each and every one of us dead square in the eyes as she announced that she and Dad were going to town for groceries, as they were hosting the weekly neighborhood whist party that evening. Then she instructed us, ever so wickedly, that we could either play a board game or (heaven forbid!) clean our rooms. Only when Mom, the cat, and the dog were out the door did we all finally let out our breath.

The stare-downs commenced, followed by the giggles and a few tossed couch pillows. A serious discussion took hold about playing “forest” outside in the rain, but big sis’s reminder that we would be worse than toast if Mom spotted one ounce of mud on the floor ended that conversation in a jiff.

When little sister came around the corner with a glass of water, sporting a straw, we all piped up at the same time: “Heinz 57!”

I’m not sure if the game was one we made up or if one of us brought the suggestion home from school. Either way, rules were meant to be broken, and we sure did a dandy job of it.

The gist of the game was for the “it person” to disappear into the kitchen for no more than five minutes, mixing three ingredients of his or her choice in a container. The winner was the one who correctly guessed the most components, receiving the cherished role of being the next mixer. Three clues: Look, smell, and taste.

A rock/paper/scissors elimination started with the youngest two and moved up in aget to determine the first kid who got to go to the kitchen. We may have broken the rules on that one, too, as we used “real” rocks, paper, and scissors.

First to mix up a batch of concoction was our youngest brother after he accidentally dropped the rock on big sis’s toes and she ended up in the bathroom, frantically searching for Band-Aids. Her double-folded paper cutting boomeranged with scissors in hand.

Around the corner from the kitchen came little brother with a huge smirk on his face as he let each of us take a look, smell, and taste. Us older kids usually took our time with the smaller two’s attempts to pull the wool over our eyes. It would have been trickier if they had just changed ingredients once in a while from ketchup, mustard, and milk.

A couple of us eyed up the fancy china container with cautious, raised eyebrows, but shrugged it off with anxious turns at guessing the elements.

Being at the top of the pecking order, oldest brother took his time for a change, before yawning and naming off little bro’s mix.

None of us older kids blended up the same potion twice in any given year. The ingredients ranged from hot sauce to raw eggs to food coloring. Big sis mixed up the champion brew one year, containing Alpha-Bits cereal, mayonnaise, and sherbet ice cream. We had an all-out war for weeks, as I had guessed the mix correctly but big sis insisted I name the correct letters of the cereal. Well, the mayo made them mush up pretty good and who could taste a B from an E?

The clinking and clanking in the kitchen from big brother’s mixing made us five on the couch listen extremely close. Clues from an opening refrigerator or cupboard door were most valuable! I don’t think any of us heard the front door open, though, as he snuck outside for ingredient number three that ultimately placed all six of us in the doghouse for a week.

Entering the living room, all smiles, big brother had changed the rules again and had a piece of Saran Wrap covering the fancy china bowl. His new regulation tossed out smell and taste, leaving only one look by each of us as he passed the bowl around.

Arguments flew like wildfire between us as the three ingredients were impossible to name by sight alone. Big bro forgot all about the bowl’s surprise component as all six of us ended up outside in one huge muddy argument.

Pulled by our ears to the biffy, each of us was instructed to wash up in a hurry, as Mom and Dad had arrived late from town and their card-party guests would be arriving shortly.

Mingling with the adults, we all had our best-behavior hats on, as the next evening was bingo at the community center and who wouldn’t act perfectly civil to win five bucks or a turkey?!

As Mrs. Olson from the ritzy side of the county reprimanded her husband for playing the wrong cards, she reached for the fancy china bowl covered in Saran, which big brother had forgotten on the counter on our way out to war.

Us kids didn’t dare look, smell, or taste, but she did all three, with her big fat potato chip.

The surprise ingredient wasn’t pretty… and it had been made by a cow…