From a young age, I was allowed to leave the house by bike and be home by dinner. I still have scars from that, but, you know, it’s not really terrorizing.
Let us contrast this with whatever the fuck passes for parenting these days.
We’re buying the concept that parents can’t raise their own kid, and thus the government needs to step in.
Well, some are. But seriously, the past 40 years of destroying critical thinking worked.
There are few reasons to be thankful for being 46. We don’t exist in the media, and we’re somehow never mentioned. Boomers … Millennials. Um, you missed a step.
Oh, I never wore a helmet. They were quite sweaty in Arizona heat, and really, the only real risk of injury was knees and elbows, as I knew to bail ahead of going head over handlebars. I picked my bike out of the scrub several times, sometimes having to walk it home with multiple injuries that would call for Neosporin, although, with my mom being a hippie, they only used calendula oil.