When I was a kid, we didn’t have any fancy indoor play centres. Here in Bundoora, we had to make our own entertainment, which we mostly did by going down to the old logging forest and throwing rocks at the other children. They’d throw rocks at us, and we’d engage in brutal gang warfare that would make the hours just fly by. Oh, the good times we spend climbing trees, setting fire to trees, running away from the forest fires we started by setting fire to trees!
Nowadays, kids sit in school all day learning not to set fire to things, and to have some fun they go along to an indoor play centre, where most everything inside is non-flammable. I suppose things aren’t so bad inside, especially since it’s all padded and such. I don’t approve of THAT, because back in my day we didn’t need any special padding, but it’s nice that the kids can run around and have fun while we adults drink coffee, like we should be doing. Such is our right as grown ups.
I suppose my grandchildren seem to have fun, which is the main thing. Who am I to criticise what the youth of today enjoy? Oh, right…I’ve had a wealth of experience from a long and full life of hardship, so I’m the perfect person to critique basically everything. With that in mind, I quite like the ball pit. If I could take the ball pit back in time to the forest where we used to take our parent’s wood-cutting materials and chop down trees with no adult supervision, we could’ve had a great time. Bit of innocent logging, playing in the ball pit, and then back to daring each other to drink pond water. Never did me any harm, except a bit of brain damage. Didn’t need those cells anyway.
All safe, now. Only thing kids are allowed to drink here is water and weak cordial. Their childhood is nothing like mine, with the landscape full of indoor play centres in Bundoora. This is the future. No more throwing rocks. It’s just a shame that such a wonderful pastime has been relegated to the history books.