NoBushSpokenHere
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Wed Sep-21-05 10:39 PM
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I wish I were 8 years old again |
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When I was eight, I didn't know much about the world. I spent my time in my swing or on my sliding board. My biggest worries were wondering how long I could stay outside and play before my Mom made me come in.
I didn't know what a hurricane was, much less how much damage it could do. I didn't know how much power a President had, nor did I care. Voting only meant deciding who was going to be leader of our playground group. The leader decided whether we would jump rope or take turns on the big slide. I preferred both, so it didn't matter to me who won the race.
The only real problems I had were parents who seemed to argue alot. This, I could deal with easily. Playing marbles or watching late night "Thriller" was a cure for any minute worries I had.
Starvation and people losing jobs and homes didn't seem to happen back then. Health care crises was only my Mom threatening to take me to the dreaded hospital if I didn't will myself to get better from whatever flu I had.
There were no worries about losing our freedoms and votes. We were free to swing as high as we wanted.
Oh, to be eight years old again . . .
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Maru Kitteh
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Wed Sep-21-05 11:02 PM
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1. And both my parents were alive |
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I could ask my dad any question in the world and he always had a decent answer for me. I could touch and feel and talk to him. When I dream, I can still smell him when I give him a hug.
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DU
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Fri Apr 26th 2024, 12:58 PM
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