Synthetic childhood of our children Bashny.Net

My childhood was made of wood.

Broke off a branch, stripped the leaves — here's a sword. Cut high oreshino the river, tied a fishing line with a hook - turned rod. And what we slingshot made from a forked boughs!

Probably every boy tried to walk on stilts. It turned out not at once. But if we learn, we will never forget.

All the boys knew how to light a match on my trousers, I only had to pull the fabric over the thigh. And yet it was possible to light a match on a pane of glass. And, at one time.

And even on the boards, we burned patterns and even whole pictures.

And on these trees live. Only had to build headquarters from boards, branches and old tarpaulin.





My childhood was made of iron.

 

We had designers who were going with the nuts, screws, metal brackets and plates with holes. And it all spins is small otvertochnye and wrench keys.

More serious tool appeared along with the bike. The set was Cycling the keys!

Of lead were made plytki for in money, but in a more adult — fist. And from tin in moulds poured soldiers or Indians.

And of course, all played in, "knives", cutting their allotments.

 

My childhood was paper.

 

I know how to make boats of notebook leaves and even a twin ship. And launched their first spring creeks.

Everyone knew how to make a paper bomb and fill it with water, before you dump on the head of a passerby.

The cracker, which from the sharp wave of his hand, uttered a loud Bang.

I could make a hat with a visor of an ordinary newspaper and a Cup of notebook paper.

And there was the paper that first gave free school and then the valuable books in special collection points.

Was gum wrappers and chocolates that you had to flip, slapping his hand on the table.

On school breaks we did airplanes and launched them from the window.

How many of you have seen in recent time, Windows launch paper airplanes? Do not have such planes. No more paper childhood.





Say, grumbling is the first sign of old age. But I'm not complaining. I'm just watching. My grandchildren playwith plastic toys. Plastic pyramids and cubes. They have plastic kids tableware, plastic screwdrivers and wrenches. Plastic LEGOS. Plastic machine. And all this bright plastic colors. Without sharp corners and edges.

Plastic childhood.

And I'm glad that my childhood was not synthetic. If you tell today's children about my toys, they won't understand. published
 

Author: Anatoly Koltsov, modern man, the Pope three times, twice grandfather.

 

P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©

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Source: www.litprichal.ru/work/224434/