And what about those kids? Part 2

So regarding the virus and how kids are doing... I think mostly the kids are fine.

Adults are NOT fine, we're obsessing and worrying and stressing and wondering how we're supposed to pay the bills. We know how dangerous life is, how short it is and how many things can go wrong.

If we're doing the adult thing correctly, all that worry isn't visible to the kids, though. I don't know about you, I'm not capable of hiding my worries that well.

I  see a lot of stuff on the news (not just now, during the pandemic but during many other events/crises)  along the lines of 'zomggggg what will we tell the childrunnn???' and snort and roll my eyes.

Most adults have forgotten what it was like to be a child.
Kids are resilient and accept their circumstances and day to day existence without a lot of thought.

Let's do a small experiment. We don't have to write anything down, wear lab coats or goggles and we won't have to defend our conclusion to any panels of other scientists who are competing for funding and trying to poke holes in our theories.

Just an experiment here in the Mental Clubhouse.

Okay, are you ready?
You, over there in the corner, stop talking to your neighbor and try to pay attention, could you?

Now.
Really try to remember being six years old.

Since I'm asking you to remember, I'm making that same effort.

For me, the age of six was 53 years ago.
I remember that losing my first tooth (my mom didn't think to prepare me for it and I had NO IDEA it was going to happen and biting into an apple and having my front tooth come out was one goddamn large trauma, thank you) while perched in an apple tree in a yard in Montrose, Colorado was the BIG event of the year.

I also remember my teacher's face but not her name and that I got lost nearly every day while walking the five blocks to school.

I surreptitiously watched other kids and nonchalantly followed them so I could make it to and from school, no, it never occurred to me to tell my mom I was lost.

I had a red bookbag that was sent to me by my great aunt, I loved Dr Seuss books and watching Lost in Space, Batman and the Wild, Wild West with my dad. I sat on his lap and we ate sardines and crackers together.

The washing machine was in our bathroom (when I took a bath and laid back in the tub my legs floated) and I shared a bedroom with my little brother.

Another interesting memory... when we bought the washing machine, the appliance place (Gambles, I think) gave us a gigantic bright orange stuffed rabbit, which we hauled with us every time we moved until I was in the 5th grade.

Every time my mom bought a box of laundry soap, there was a free floral bath towel in the box.

My grandparents lived in the same town as I did when I was six.
They had hardwood floors and brushed aluminum tumblers, from which I was served 7-up over ice whenever we visited.

There were a bunch of other kids my age in the neighborhood to play with and I usually wore red or blue Keds with white laces and rubber toes.

My mom's sister was a newlywed and my new uncle Mike's parents had adopted me as a grandchild. Verle picked me up every Saturday morning in her fancy car and drove me to their house where I watched cartoons (in color!!) and ate a nice breakfast. Verle and Welton were very kind to me, I remember them fondly.

I had a pair of dark forest green capri-length pants, my mom called them 'pedal pushers'. I often wore them with a turtleneck shirt that said Hootenanny on the front.

Without assistance from Google, I can't tell you anything about politics, national or local emergencies or what was on the news, but I can still remember the lyrics of most of the folk music that was popular at the time. I actually own quite a few CDs with music from those years.

We had a light green Dodge Lancer with push button drive and a back seat that folded down for both access to the trunk and to make a bed when we traveled.

My dad wore a hard hat and work boots when he went to work in the morning and I was fascinated with the plumb bob he carried on his belt. He had one of the old fashioned dome lunch boxes and a series of plaid thermoses.

He built me a transit from an erector set that went across the room on string.

My mom always looked beautiful. She wore a dress and lipstick. The apartment we lived in was always clean. Much cleaner than the house I keep these days.

I remember many more things, but they're just more bits and pieces. I don't remember things from that time of my life in linear fashion at all. I don't remember what was upsetting adults at the time, but I do remember my grandmother telling my mother that she'd heard them chanting on the radio, "Hey Hey LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?"

I remember the recitation, but there was no context.
I didn't know he was the president, I didn't know we were at war.

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So the oddness right now... the plague. The stress of having to stay home, wear a mask when out and about, not having to go to school... those are things that affect adults much more than kids. They'll remember it, of course, but I don't know that they'll attach the same importance to it that we, as adults, do.

I think the grownups are the ones being traumatized with today's events.

What do you think?
And what was it like when YOU were six?