We grew up with jungle gyms, monkey bars, teeter totters, and round carousel wheels of death. If we fell, we fell in sand. Maybe. Kids are soft today. They have safe spaces. They have cushioned playgrounds. No wheels of death, no monkey bars, no jungle gyms. they don’t play war, using real bb guns. Seldom do they have rock wars with their friends, planning strategies to flank the opposition and nail them with rocks. They don’t jump over each other with bicycles off ramps, or do downhills on 10 speeds with narrow tires. Sure, we broke bones and got stiches. That was part of growing up. We toke headers, biffed, got smoked, then walked it off.
We drank from hoses. We stayed outside. All day. And when the streetlights came on, we knew it was time to go in for dinner. Unless dad, or sometimes mom, were outside cowboy whistling, then we knew it was too late, and we were in some sort of trouble.
This shows a jungle gym captioned “Kids today are soft. When I was five I died. My mom made me walk it off.”
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