While you guys were all getting to grips with the coolest miniatures and D&D books your childhood had to offer, some of us were out here playing real games. Games that mattered. Games with substance, style, and a bright pink telephone.

Allow me to transport you back in time. It’s the 90s. Everything you own is now either neon or denim. The music is middling, the politics is tedious and your mobile phone just about fits in your car. Also, modems still make that horrible dial-up tone. Creed is here. In short, you have arrived in hell and no-one seems to be concerned.

In this cesspool of striped sweaters and portable CD players that scratched every disc you owned, there was strange salvation, and it came in the form of Dream Phone.

Now, not to stereotype our readership, but I’m going to assume that many of you did not play Dreamphone as kids. Never fear, there is a handy advert to help you understand the complexities of such a strategic game:

Seriously, how did any of us survive the 90s?!

Dreamphone was my Christmas present - in fact, it was for most little girls. Bemused brothers and fathers across the country smirked at the bright pink present these little ladies received, never fully understanding the power we would one day possess thanks to the technological development of an electronic pink phone.

Because, as geeky and socially awkward as I am now (and it’s pretty bad), I was a hundred times worse as a kid. And there was Tony. Beautiful Tony. And he liked me. Possibly. I just needed to find him first.

Yes, Dream Phone taught me that the relentless pursuit of a man, to the point of badgering his friends for his current location, interests, and likes, would eventually lead me to love. And if that isn’t a heartwarming message to give to your little girl, I don’t know what is.

Okay, looking back, this game might just be the most horrendous thing I’ve ever played. But, at the time, I loved my Dream Phone. Tony and I were going to run away together and live on a beach playing volleyball, and no-one would make me do my homework or go to bed early. We would hold hands and climb trees and no-one could stop us.

To be honest, I think child-me had this relationship thing figured out.

Dream Phone was yet another one of those board games constantly out of the cupboard. Among groups of girls, it became a status symbol - like an electronic Guess Who with the inclusion of dreamy boys.

And personally, I think I would prefer a Dream Phone today to my own phone. Yes, it’s pink and clunky, but a constant stream of polite, well-mannered young men who want to tell me I’m pretty would be a welcome change from the Sky sales team hitting me up at 7 am on Sunday morning to talk about extended warranties.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m away to stealth-move through the beach and the disco, randomly asking men if they know what my crushes favourite food is. I’ll track this lad down yet.

Anyone else think that Tyler looks like a serial killer?