Life in Australia in the 1970s and 80s was a very different time to the one we are raising our kids in now. As kids we were left to roam the streets in harmless little gangs, pulling pranks, doing stunts on our bikes, wandering in and out of each others houses. School holidays were a time when we barely saw our parents, except to ask for fifty cents to buy an iceblock at the shop. My parents were extremely comfortable with leaving me at home, in fact my younger sister and I were commonly known as “latchkey kids.” When we got up in the morning, and when we got home from school, we were unsupervised. We stayed out of any obvious trouble, but we ate alot!
Now, I wasn’t a naughty child, but I was curious, and an enormous snoop. My Gran was apowerful influence at that stage. If she told me I could “eat” that flower, I would. Thankfully the only strife I ended up in, left only myself emotionally battered, and embarressed.
Ok, so I can see you’re starting to get upset..”poor little neglected child.” But I think you’ll see that I always got what I deserved..and what was that? Well it’s the same thing I get coming here everyday…attention!
Incident number one: my Dad advised me NOT to stick a fork in the power point! He was very clear- “no forks” or “powerpoints!” Right! Got it! The instant his butt was in the car, backing down the drive way I was in the utensil draw. Spoon? No good! It had to be a fork, he was very specific! A spoon might work, but I couldn’t risk it. Scene cuts to me standing on a chair jamming the fork into the socket. By some miracle I wasn’t killed, but a bolt of electricity travelled up my hand so hard and fast, that it left me with an aching arm for the next three days. My Dad never twigged. I dropped a few hints, but he’s a man and subltletly was never his strong point.
Incident two: Dad (again), pointed out a specific plant in a friends garden. “Whatever you do, don’t eat that, it’ll give you lockjaw.” Now, I’m no biologist, and even at nine I knew you could’nt just eat random weeds, but I could see that this sucker was particularly unappealing. Keeping in mind I was at a birthday party. Pretty sure I was gonna eat the fairy bread and lollies over some hideous looking Triffid. But, the challenged had been laid. So, I took a piece and I ate. I wasn’t sure what lockjaw was ( in hindsight I think he meant rabies! ), but suddenly my jaw started to tingle. My friends started to gather round. Next thing my Dad was there, bundling me into the car as I rubbed my jaw! There’s a tale similar to this one, but it involves me, Dad and a warning about some chillies! There’s a lot more swearing in that one!
So, I guess you’re wondering how I ever survived my childhood. When you embarrass and humiliate yourself enough times you become reslilient. And while I am cautious about how I phrase things to my children, experience has taught me one thing. There is no substitute for experience
– Mary Pickford
