It was my third request to the neighbors children and "manny" playing immediately outside of my door when I (in a very stern voice - one that sounded exactly like my mother's) opened the door and said, "Fellas, Mr.Taylor is trying to sleep, and I am trying to work. Please keep it down, I would really appreciate it."
A wave of nausea washed over me as I closed the door.
1) Who the fuck is Mr. Taylor?, and
It is becoming more and more clear that the proximity to my youth is slipping further and further behind me. I couldn't imagine hanging around inside on a beautiful day when I was the age of those boys (4 and 9 or close to that). I spent every waking minute squirting my sunbathing sister with the hose, watching ants carry things, playing ghost in the graveyard, building blanket forts, swimming, playing badminton and challenging unsuspecting neighbors to games of old-fashioned, horrifically dangerous, lawn darts.
I realize things are different now. Kids (who for sure know more than we did, but who are perhaps not any smarter) participate in different kinds of activities all throughout the summer to stimulate their minds a la Tiger Mommy protocol. Back then, you had from dawn til dusk to entertain yourself however you liked. I also didn't live in a city, I grew up in a "town", but have doubts life would have been much different. There were still creepy guys in vans, but I knew not to talk to anyone in a van - unless it was the Bookmobile driver. Anyway I started thinking about all of the things I did when I was young - and how many of them aren't around anymore. From games that we played, to snacks we loved to clothes we wore. Here's my list of things that I just can't find anywhere...and for anyone who grew up with me, it's a way to remember these things and never forget them.
Old Fashioned Dangerous Lawn Darts.
(Or, why you don't have to tell someone my age something twice. )
Magic Middles Cookies
The Smell of this (couldn't find a picture of the old elixir style bottle though):
A favorite snack:
And all of the fun in the sun that I had with this lady:
-and no - that's not a painted on swimsuit...those are tan lines - which you could make even more obvious by placing Malibu Barbie under a lamp or leave her out in the yard while you go to the park, then the pool, then to the Bookmobile.
Somehow this kept me afloat in the deep end:
At least long enough to yell for my Mom to "watch me! watch me! watch me!".
Now I just blog.