“So we grew up in a good and happy place. And we were good. Or we were as good as kids were expected to be. We didn’t suffer from childhood obesity, dyslexia, lactose intolerance, or behavioral disorders. We were husky, a little slow at reading, farted a lot, and were pains in the neck. Anyway, we were happy.”
“There were some rules. Everybody outdoors on nice days, no crossing busy streets, no hitting girls, no firecrackers in your mouth, come when you’re called for dinner, and everybody indoors when the streetlights go on. These rules, like the definition of a “nice day,” were broadly construed. They were enforced by the general committee of grown-ups with the inefficiency for which committees are famous. All eyes were upon us in the neighborhood but not looking too closely. And so we ran wild—in a rather tame manner.”
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