But the one thing defined suburb kids were dirt clods. Those grimy, dusty and perfect tools of the neighborhood war helped pass many a summer day.
There were endless hours of dirt clod wars, collecting them in preparation for a sneak attack or just throwing them by yourself while contemplating life as puberty hit and every girl had you by six inches.
Where are they now?
Swear to God, I haven’t seen a dirt clod in decades. Believe me – if they were out there my boys would be hucking them at each other daily. And for good reason. When I was 12, I’d take a mountain of dirt clods and a sunny day over an iPod Touch any day. There was an art to making our own fun back then. A creativity that is lost on our kids.
As I jogged on the beach this week with Boy #1, I spoke about dirt clods as romantically as a grandparent talks about churning butter. The same way we rolled our eyes at those old stories, he had no interest, except for the part where we threw them at each other. I suppose if that “war” were to happen today, there would be outrage and a local news story. But back then we bonded over these things. It got out our comptetitive energy, made us think strategy and created friendships. There was no malice.
(Click here to get more tips that will keep you looking and feeling good from Shake Your Foundation delivered to your email for free)