Our Gang is alive and well and taken up residence in my driveway. I am most likely dating myself with an arcane T.V. reference (much like the failed Mr. Kotter reference at our staff meeting). As a child, I would wake up before everyone else. The only things on T.V. were scary yelling T.V. preachers, Davy and Goliath, or Our Gang. Davy and Goliath, while a cartoon, was a bit too preachy and made me feel guilty. Our Gang, however, knew how to have fun. In today's era of technological jaded children, you would think kids tearing around a neighborhood would be a rarity.
Well, it looks a little different (more like the UN), but somethings are the same. It is a little blonde kid with a faux hawk showing up on our doorstep carrying a turtle like a pizza delivery box. It is bike races up and down the court (hopefully the rest of the neighbors look up the melee with fondness for their own youth and don't see the herd of screaming children as annoying. It is enough water balloons to turn a yard into a swamp (I dodged hosting that mess. My apologies to the family up the street.). It is some odd dance of little girls in princess dresses with cheetah print heels and umbrellas (this prompted a "What the heck?" from my teen. This one looked more like a black and white French film than a slice of Americana.). It looks like my teen frantically dodging her adoring fans as she sprints from mailbox to house. It sounds like yelling, fighting, making up, bossing, laughing, giggling, screen door slamming, doorbell ringing, dog whining.
It is the kind of childhood that I always wanted for Lily. How lucky she is!