If you're complaining about your kids not living their childhood the way you lived your childhood, stop.
They can't even, with that crap.
They're not interested in your stories of you and your childhood friends riding your bikes through the neighborhood and spending countless summer hours at the public pool.
They don't care.
And, quite frankly, they're convinced that if you had the luxuries of smartphones, the internet, Netflix, and PlayStation, you probably would have been a lot less interested in flashlight tag, manhunt, or kick the can, too.
So, let's agree to stop blaming our kids for having their own childhood, however cooped up and never- see- the -sun, that it may be.
Let's remember how much we hated the stories from our own parents, and how they didn't even have televisions, and had to go outside and play with dinosaurs.
Let's all agree to put an end to the childhood shaming, and let them have their own.
Let's also say a tiny 'Amen', for the privilege of growing up in a time when we were able to get away with a little misbehaving. You know, long before kids were equipped with tracking devices.
Shivaun Williams is a Bucks County, PA writer and mom of three. This post is adapted from her blog, Dar Liomsa (In My Opinion).
