My mother used to tell me stories about “when she was a child”.
She grew up in a family of 10 children, and never had any money for toys. She and her sisters used to play with “dolls” which were actually sticks wrapped up in scraps of cloth. They used to collect bottle tops, glass jars, marbles, wood, broken furniture, and other bits of rubbish by the side of the road, and turn them into toys and games.
Of course, I re-tell my children these same stories.
I inflict them with the WOODEN STICK DOLL STORY, whenever my children whinge “Muuuuum I’m boooooored!”
Then there’s the story of when grandpa was a kid. Did you know he had to walk for MILES in the snow… in shoes that were too small for his feet… and he had to cut off the front of the shoe to make room for his toes!
Or the one where grandma’s family had 12 PEOPLE LIVING IN ONE SMALL HOUSE the size of our garage!
Then of course, I just had to throw my own stories into the mix, just so that they have ample ammunition for THEIR OWN CHILDREN in the future.
“Did you know my sister and I never played computer games. We’d spend all day climbing trees and swinging on vines in the jungle behind our house. We would make secret hideouts. And we would even draw on rocks and sticks and turn them into play things.”
So the other day, what do you know… I stumbled across my children playing with these rock cars.