We were at dinner last night with some friends and the topic of various youthful shenanigans that people committed came up for discussion. Some were cute, some were downright frightening. I am continually amazed how some of us survive into our middle years. The hand of God is apparent the older I get. The 50s and 60s were easier times, relative to today, and it seemed that kids could wander a little farther and a little more unencumbered by the nuisance of parental "accompaniment" sometimes...the stories we heard!!!...especially of tales growing up out here in the desert! Yikes.
Little kids filling up irrigation cisterns to go swimming in their underwear because they were hot. They were just so innocent.
Discovering (another) irrigation-type cistern UNDERNEATH an office and floating their little brother (about age 2) into the dark water and letting him go (they were only mere children themselves sneaking off after their naps)-miraculously this child just FLOATED on top of the water until they formed a human chain of little children to rescue their little brother from the middle of a this dark pool of subterranean water...amazing....and he's perfectly fine-no worse for wear....they're all fine, upstanding, wonderful people....she's one of my best friends!!!
Another friend who is pure Norwegian, with the electric blue eyes to prove it, somehow manifested a recessive gene that gave him black hair and rather tan skin, which is a beautiful combination. When his family went back home to Iowa in the mid 60s, he was driving out of their small hometown and he noticed he was being followed...he pulled over and two of the "townsfolk" told him they "didn't want his kind" in their town. His reply, "I was on my way out anyway" said in "you idiots" kind of way that he has...but he went to his father (who was FROM this town) and his dad said, "Oh no, we're going back and taking care of this"....which they did...
So I thought I'd chime in with one of my own. I said, "I remember a time when a few of us broke into an old, haunted insane asylum. We got through several doors and up to the third floor, to the spiral stairway, where the story of the haunting takes place. It was very creepy and very exciting." Everyone was staring at me. I was very impressed with my OWN self at this point. Peter then asked, "And how old were you when this happened Deborah?"
*a moment of stunned silence*
I guess some things are better dealt with in our youth. At least we have some excuse....