Kids In My Generation
If you are over 40, think of things we lived through. How on earth did we survive growing up?!
No car seats, no booster seats, no seat belts, no air bags. Riding in the back of a pick-up truck was always special.
Child proof lids were not a thing.
We rode bikes without helmets or bike paths and built rickety wooden ramps to jump to see how many friends we could jump.
Our mothers wiped our faces with their spit on a used Kleenex from their purse, not an antibacterial wipe and Purell.
When our teachers would give us a spanking, which they had a special paddle for, we wouldn’t tell our parents for fear of getting punished again.
We were the only ones that could stop the VCR from blinking.
Trampolines featured exposed giant rusty springs and were without padding or a net.
Weekends were about our parents’ social lives, not ours.
Kids got scared before parent-teacher meetings, not teachers.
Merry-go-rounds and swings were often on gravel.
Chores and homework both had to happen.
If you didn’t like dinner you could go hungry.
When a kid was injured, people felt sorry for her parents. They didn’t ask what they were thinking letting her climb that tree anyway.
Drinking from water hoses was normal.
Club houses were built by kids from scrap wood using Dad’s tools.
The street lights told you to go home.
If you did badly on a test, you might fail.
A pocket-knife or B.B. gun was a perfectly acceptable gift for a 10-year-old.
No cell phones, no GPS… a pile of bikes was the best chance to know where we really were.
Family time and trips always trumped kids’ sports.
We had three TV channels. A fourth one if it was really cloudy. We had to adjust the antenna outside. And if the president was on, he was on every single channel.
Skinned knees were called strawberries and no one cared. There were no knees left in any of our jeans anyway.
A “playdate” was you walking to a friend’s house, ringing the doorbell and saying, “Can Danny come out to play?”
There was no padding on basketball posts, goal posts or anything else.
No one wrote names on cups at parties.
You could offer your friend a bite of your hot dog.
If the bus driver yelled at you, the bus driver didn’t get in trouble, you did.
You had to try out to make a team. If you didn’t make a team, you tried harder or tried something else.
Going to visit relatives was often boring, but you had to be respectful and you had no iPad.
No participation trophies. You won or lost.
All the adults seemed to be entirely united. Any of them could talk to you like a child. Imagine that?
Mr. Peel seeks justice for those injured in motorcycle, truck and car accidents, disability and medical malpractice. He often addresses churches, clubs and groups without charge. Mr. Peel may be reached through PeelLawFirm.com wherein other articles may be accessed.