Game. Boy.

I grew up in the 1980s.

We couldn't wait to get outside in the morning. Came in at night when the streetlights went on.

Sweaty in the noon day sun, we ate freeze pops in the shade of lofty trees. Scraped knees, a hoard of the neighborhood kids' bikes all curbed on one of our lawns.

We made potions with mud and berries. Mushrooms were pretend pancakes and pats of butter. Sticks were weapons. Rocks were mostly tools.

We played knee deep in swamps, pulled leaches off calves and from in between sandled toes. We placed pennies on traintracks. Caught fish and salamanders in streams.

We moved as a pack from home to home, devouring sugary snacks and greedily gulping water from the hose.

Decades later...

I look at my kids plucking away on their tablets... their little faces illuminated by a bright glowing light, their bodies cool from central ac, knowing full well that none of them would ever even consider drinking from a garden hose (they once told me so) and I can't help but feel that I'm a relic from a time long gone by... An 8 bit operating system in a digital world far removed from hose hydration.

And I'm not sure how I feel about all that.