I did drink from a hose...

Often on Facebook, people post status updates that are copied from someone else. They might say something about a cause, like austism-awareness, or something about appreciation, like how much you love your sister, or something about how great America is. People are asked to copy and repost the information if they agree. The past couple weeks, there has been a post going around about how we were raised back in the day. I've seen a couple of variations. They go something like this:

When I was a kid I didn't have a computer or cell phone. I had Barbies or Hot Wheels, a bike and a sandbox. I had a curfew. If I didn't eat what my mom made, I didn't eat. And I dealt with it. I didn't think of telling my parents "no" or dare to talk back. If I did, I got my butt whooped. Hand sanitizer didn't exist, but I could get my mouth washed out with soap. I drank water out of a hose and survived. Life wasn't hard, it was life. Re-post if you appreciate the way you were raised.

If I were to repost this, it would have to be changed.

When I was a kid I didn't have a computer. ... My parents liked technology and we had computers in the house. We started with a Texas Instruments--oh, the fun of Hunt the Wumpus and Munchman! I was a master at Space Invaders. And don't even get me started on Media Multiplication. Later we got an Apple computer. I played a fun game about a lemonade stand. And then my brother brought home a Nintendo. Mario Brothers!!!

....or cell phone. That goes without saying.

I had Barbies or Hot Wheels, a bike and a sandbox. I never had a Barbie. And I won't let my girls have one either. Would you like me to go into the body-image issues of that little doll? Yeah, I don't want to go into it either. I loved my bike. But there was no sandbox. Sand is dirty. We had a clean house.

I had a curfew. Well...sort of. I set my own curfew. It worked like this: Parent: "What time are you going to be home tonight?" Me: "Um...11:00?" Parent: "Okay." And then I was required to be home by the time I set. If I wasn't, I would be in trouble. But if I had set a later curfew in the first place, all would be well.

If I didn't eat what my mom made, I didn't eat. And I dealt with it. If I didn't eat what my mom (or dad) made, my dad would make me a jelly sandwich. He liked me to eat. When I got a little older, I learned to make my own cheese sandwich. I'm healthy anyway.

I didn't think of telling my parents "no" or dare to talk back. If I did, I got my butt whooped.  My parents didn't hit. If I wanted to tell them "no," they listened to what I had to say and my point of view. We shared a mutual respect (at least from my perspective). I didn't want to disappoint them because I valued their opinions. So, I usually did as I was told. Usually.

Hand sanitizer didn't exist, but I could get my mouth washed out with soap. Are you kidding? That doesn't seem very nice! I heard of that mouth-washing-out business going on in the 1950s (by my grandma). But I am not that old. Sometimes I got sent to my room for five minutes. And if I was really, really horrible, my dad said, "Megan!" in a stern voice.

I drank water out of a hose and survived. That part is true. But I was careful which hose I chose. We used irrigation water for the lawn and garden. So, I only drank out of the hose with the culinary water. I was smart like that.

Life wasn't hard, it was life.  Life wasn't hard because it was a love-filled childhood. Sometimes I wish I could figure out how my parents did what they did so I could imitate their parenting techniques. That's something worth reposting.

Re-post if you appreciate the way you were raised. I definitely appreciate the way I was raised.