I guess all parents reflect on the things that have changed and the things that have stayed the same since their own childhoods oh-so-many years ago. I do the same thing, sometimes, when I have time to think between the needs of two active little boys.
One thing that is different is how concerned today’s parents are about safety. Overall the safety changes since my childhood are a good thing, but at times I realize they have come with a loss of some of the freedom that came naturally to me as a child. Car seats and bike helmets are great and have saved many, many lives. I would never argue their worth, but on long drives to school and back I can see how my little guys ache to move because each is restrained in a five-point harness. I think back to the long drive to school my mom and I made daily, me climbing back and forth from the front to the back at will, or after long school days, lying at full sprawl across the back seat with a book in hand. Bike riding was a simple thing for me – just hop on the bike and go. Same thing for roller skates. Liam has to put on a helmet to ride his bike, which requires my assistance, and he has already declared that learning to skate isn’t worth the trouble what with the helmet, knee pads, and elbow pads. And let’s not even get into how I could bike around the block unchaperoned at Liam’s age. If I let him do that these days I might get arrested for child endangerment.
Some things are the same, though. Little boys still like to play cowboys and Indians (Native Americans?), or policemen, or firemen. Hours of fun are still to be had by grabbing a few makeshift props and transporting oneself to the world of imagination.
So it was with a bit of joy and a bit of sadness that I watched the scene below play out this afternoon:
Liam and Kiri came tearing around the corner, each riding a stick horse. Liam yelled to his brother, “Hey, Kiri! Let’s pretend to be cowboys and round up the cattle! Here, I’ll throw your rope to you!” Liam threw an imaginary rope to Kieran, who grabbed it with a happy flourish, and off they galloped across the plains of the toy room floor. I was smiling as they came ’round the living room corner once again. But then Liam roped in his pony, yelling in alarm, “Whoa, Boy! Whoa! Kiri, stop your steed! We forgot something!”
Wondering what could have been forgotten (water? chow? bedroll?), I watched as Kiri reined his horse in right beside my chair. “What, Liam, what?” he asked.
Liam took off his imaginary cowboy hat and handed it to me. “Everyone knows you can’t ride a horse without a helmet!” he said sagely. He put on a pretend helmet. Removing his pretend chaps and boots, he slipped on pair of forgotten knee pads. Kiri followed along in perfect imitation. Liam put his chaps, boots and hat on again, all on top of the safety gear. So dod Kieran. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, he tossed a pair to his brother, who said, “No! Me no wear!” After a short brotherly lecture about the perils of sunlight on unprotected eyes, Kiri complied and put on his sunglasses.
Liam looked up and down at Kiri. “Perfect!” he declared. “Pewfeck!” echoed Kieran. Liam asked, “Ready, Pard’ner?” “Weddy, Pawdnew!” answered Kieran. The two mounted their trusty steeds and trotted off in search of adventure. I last saw the cowboys as they rode off into the horizon in the general direction of the laundry room. I laughed while shaking my head in disbelief and at how different and yet how similar childhoods separated by 25 years could be.
My Grandmother had a saying. I didn’t really get it as a kid, but I do now. “The more things change, the more they stay the same,” she often said. She really had it right.
