How was my Thanksgiving? Let me just say that Thanksgiving is like child birth. If we didn’t block out the pain we’d never have another one. Nuff said.
So I’m listening to Adam Carolla’s podcast this morning. I love this guy. He usually says what I’m thinking, but it sounds a lot better coming out of his mouth. Anyway, it was his Sunday football show and one of his guests starts talking about how “play dates” were the beginning of the end of civilization. And I startle my useless dog by screaming “YESSS!!” I have always despised the phrase “play date.” When did kids have to make appointments to hang with a friend? Sheesh!
Not to sound old (I am, I just don’t like to sound it) but when I was a kid, we left the house and just had to make sure we were home for dinner. Other than that rule, we could do anything we wanted. And the beauty of back then was that my parents never asked what I did, or how was my day. Good thing, because my friends and I would do stuff like: putting a rock on the railroad track to see what happens when a train hit it; check the woods the day after a fire with our water guns to make sure the fire was completely out (once this actually started a fire!); eat mystery berries to see if they were poisonous. And guess what? I didn’t make a 3:00 Play on the Tracks appointment with my friends. It just happened! And sports? Someone would say, “Hey, wanna play whiffle ball?” And suddenly we’d be playing whiffle ball. No one was on a “travel” team playing every second of every weekend, and if they were you can be sure their parents wouldn’t be taking them!
Yes, we’re a more involved generation and I love my kids and being aware of everything they are up to. But they’ don’t love it! And I feel bad for them that they’re missing out on the freedom of having parents that don’t care. But I feel even worse for us. We have to take them to every sporting event or cheer practice or smelly party or god knows what and before you know it, the weekend is over and it’s a blur and I can’t wait to have a quiet “play date” with my desk back at the office where I will hug it and say “Thank god it’s Monday.”
Am I alone here?