Survival of the Fitless

A few weeks ago my kids had some friends over for a marathon play date.  For the record, the very word playdate makes me cringe with its cutesy implications & smacks of everything that is wrong with the land of suburbia.  I have never had a play date in my life, although I did go to other peoples houses and play without the need for official naming and so forth.  Anyway, there were these kids at my house, playing all day and at one point they were riding scooters and bikes in front of the house.  Like a dutiful mother, I sat on my paltry excuse for a stoop and watched them zip back and forth and bicker about who had a longer turn on the Razor and who didn't want to use the Jackknife scooter.  Like a playdate, I never had a mother sit on the stoop just to watch over me as I played - if my mom was sitting out on the stoop at all it was to smoke cigarettes and b.s. with the neighbors after dinner.  At one point the kids got bored and decided to take turns riding the baby around in his wagon, a big sturdy ride complete with seatbelts.  The baby was enjoying himself quite a bit and the kids seemed to enjoy pulling him around and taking turns hopping in and out as his passengers.

After a while, thunder threatened our fun and then lightning reared its mysteriously beautiful and frightening head.  I decided that since I was in charge of other peoples children, I best take them inside and away from all the metal, wheeled objects lying about. The girls and I started putting the bikes and scooters in the back yard while the boys were in charge of the wagon.  I saw them out of the corner of my eye hop into it together and position themselves at the top of my pretty steep driveway.  I also saw them wiggle the handle around and scoop it up towards them, knowing full well that they intended to sail joyously down the driveway and into the street.  I muttered a half-hearted 'be careful boys' and continued with my task while silently praying they would pick up enough speed to get all the way across the street and experience a little terror and a lot of fun.  Was this very mature of me?  Certainly not, but I was a kid who set garbage cans up at the bottom of a hill and skated full speed into them, hoping that the bus wasn't coming; I know the joy of moving downhill on wheels.  Just as they were about to set off, my neighbor across the street came over and admonished the boys for not playing safely, thereby forcing me to fake chastise them and usher them in doors.  I was really rooting for them and was more bummed out about their thwarted plan than they appeared to be.

Just the other day, I read an article about the safety and lameness of all the new play structures found around the country.  They're all really sturdy and made of insanely colorful plastic.  They are also low to the ground and are all surrounded by wood chips, or rubber pads in case anyone falls.  Nice to look at, but apparently not all that challenging, disallowing for kids to take risks and adequately cope with fear.  The playgrounds I grew up with were made of metal - slides (you were really taking your life in hand when going down a metal slide in mid-summer heat), swings (without restraining harnesses), and monkey bars (alarmingly and thrillingly high).  There were see saws made of splintery wood and very little, if any padding beneath anything.  It seems to me that the playgrounds of yesteryear really were a test for survival.  If you made it through a childhood of burned thighs, splinters, and falling from high places while playing tag, then you were meant to pass into adulthood as a fairly well adapted human being.  If you didn't have the stamina for such things, you were weeded out at an early age, thereby saving everyone a lot of trouble down the line.  Safe play and plastic play structures make me realize that Darwin just may have been onto something.

This weeks tip:  Blood can be removed from clothing with the use of hydrogen peroxide and cold water.  If you are inclined to do laundry after suffering an injury including bloodletting, wet stain(s) thoroughly with cold water and pour peroxide directly onto stain.  The peroxide will do that weird bubbling thing that makes peroxide so much fun.  You can rub it in and continue applying water and peroxide until the stain is lifted.  Afterwards, place clothing in a load of wash using cold water, hot water will set stains.