Childhood Of Yore
By I want to be a kid again. I want to go back to the time when:
Decisions were made by going “eeny-meeny-miney-mo.”
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, “do over!”
“Race issue” meant arguing about who ran the fastest.
Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly.
Catching the fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening.
It wasn’t odd to have two or three “best” friends.
Being old referred to anyone over 20.
The net on a tennis court was the perfect height to play volleyball and rules
didn’t matter.
The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties.
It was magic when dad would “remove” his thumb.
It was unbelievable that dodge ball wasn’t an Olympic event.
Having a weapon in school meant being caught with a slingshot.
Nobody was prettier than Mom.
Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better.
It was a big deal to finally be tall enough to ride the “big people” rides at
the amusement park.
Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true.
Abilities were discovered because of a “double-dog-dare.”
Saturday morning cartoons weren’t 30-minute ads for action figures.
No shopping trip was complete unless a new toy was brought home.
“Oly-oly-oxen-free” made perfect sense.
Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles.
The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team.
War was a card game.
Water balloons were the ultimate weapon.
Baseball cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle.
Taking drugs meant orange-flavored chewable aspirin.
Ice cream was considered a basic food group.
