Let Kids Be Kids

Why does society want our children to be mini-adults? I do not know why the children are being pushed to grow up so fast. Just let them go outside and play. Let them swing. Let them communicate. Let them play with the dog. Let them play Red Light and Green Light with the neighboring children. Let them ride their bike or scooter. Let them walk down to the creek and skip rocks. Let them go to the library once a week. Let them explore!

I think about some of the times when I grew up on the farm, and I can say that I often played with my cousins. If my cousins from up north were coming, my sister and I would spend all day waiting for them on Grandma's porch. If it were snowing, we'd be up on the big hill in front of Grandma's house and flying down that hill repeatedly with many crashes, I might add. We didn't come in for hours. If it were a summer sunny day, we'd be playing softball or basketball in the backyard and having a great time.

Even when I had to do farm "chores," it was fun. One of my jobs was to paint the fence with white creosote. That took a while in the summer. Another fun memory was watching Dad bale hay and making sure I took him a snack or water on those hot summer days. We would walk up the road about a mile and haul that two-gallon thermos jug of tea with some Ranger cookies from Grandma's on a paper plate with foil. If it rained before the hay was picked up, Dad would say, "You get up there on the hill and turn over all those hay bales so they will dry out." I liked helping him, but some days were hot and there was no air-conditioned house to go and cool off in. We'd find a way, though. My sister and I would spray the hose on each other and squeal and laugh the rest of the afternoon away. The next day, we would watch Dad use the hay baling elevator and store away the bales for winter feeding in the top loft of the barn. We would always count how many hay bales would fall off the old rickety elevator. That was all the entertainment we needed. The only job I did not like was going into the chicken coop to get eggs. There's a reason for that. Big, fat rats would sometimes be in there. I remember I was in there one day gathering the eggs, and guess what ran over my foot and touched my leg? Yes, a big, fat rat! I was out of there.

Times are so different now. Watching society push for children to grow up so fast, I wish time could return to those days.

Later...