Space food sticks Vs. The Big Texas

With my sister bringing up Space Food Sticks and me writing about The Big Texas it gave me a little moment of clarity regarding the difference between how my generation was raised and the way in which we're raising the next generation.

When I was a kid we would drive my parents nuts asking for Food Sticks and Cokes. They would get annoyed with us always bugging them to eat that crap.

BUT, not because it was crap. They would say no because they didn't want to have to go buy more of the crap...
not because it was bad for us, they didn't think twice about that.

When my son bugs me about having hot cheetos and root beer I demure because I don't want him eating junk like that.
(ok, I do give in more now that he is a teenager and has the metabolism of a triathelete.)

It's a whole different attitude towards kids.

They loved us just fine but if somebody would have suggested that we have to wear a helmet to go on a bike ride, it wouldn't have even made sense to my dad. He would have just said, "why does he need a helmet? The boy knows how to ride the goddamn bike!"

We were free range children. In the morning they would open the doors and say "get out "

Heaven forbid you come in before lunch time. I can remember trying to come in the house for a drink of water one time and being told if "I just want water we have a goddamn garden hose."

Don't think for a second I am complaining. If my parents had kept as close of an eye on me as I did on Turbo? They would have probably killed me at some point. I would ask if I could go swimming and my mom would say . "No you can't go swimming, it's raining out."

And then I would go put on my swim suit and jump in the pool anyway. She would think I was in my room playing and then there I would be at the sliding glass door shivering and blue lipped. She would run a hot bath....

Did I get in trouble?

Probably ......but not enough to never do it again.

You can be damned sure Turbo would not repeat that stunt.

It's a combination of me not being an easily controlled child....and parents who weren't really overwhelmed with a desire to control me.

Can I give you a perfect example of my uncontaineable nature?
(Christina and I have a running joke that my motto is "I'M MICHAEL I DO WHAT I WANT!")
When I was...I'm guessing here but I would say 4 or 5? My dad had a Corvette. I want to say it was a '59. I loved that car.
He loved it too of course.
So.
He washed it, waxed it, the whole nine yards. Then he went in the house.
A few minutes later he realizes he can hear the water running. He thinks, "shit, I left the hose on"
He comes outside to find me, no shirt on, whipping the hose above my head like a fucking madman, water going everywhere...including inside his 1959 convertible Corvette.
He goes over and turns off the hose.
I look down the barrel of the hose like "what the hell, where did my water go?"
He walks over, "what the hell do you think you are doing?!"
Me, "playing in the water"
Dad, "well you're getting that shit in my car, knock it off! If I catch you doing that again I'm gonna beat your butt."
He always said that but never did it.
(except the time I gave Jason a bloody nose. But that's another Oprah.)
So.
He goes back in the house.
He gets halfway to his chair and hears the water come on.
He comes outside to find me, no shirt on, whipping the hose above my head like a fucking madman, water going everywhere...including inside his 1959 convertible Corvette.
He goes over and turns off the hose.
I look down the barrel of the hose like "what the hell, where did my water go?"
He walks over, "what the hell do you think you are doing?!"
Me, "playing in the water"
Dad, "Didn't I tell you if I catch you playing in the water again I'm gonna beat your butt?!"
Me, "yeah...but I didn't think you'd catch me."

And yet I lived.