I vividly remember wading in the big creek out behind our church on Sunday's.
It was actually used to baptize people for a long time so there was one place that was pretty deep. It would come upto an adults waist for sure. But we always stayed on the other side of that were it maybe came up to our knees.
There was about 10 of us that would be down there.
Every Sunday, church would let out and the adults were talking and socializing and we kids would make our way down there.
And then about 30 minutes later one of our parents would be running us out of it.
We would all get the "you're gonna get bit by a snake ya'll stay out of there" talk and then the very next Sunday we did it all again.
Come on. That was prayed over ground. People got washed by the water in that creek. We were totally safe.
Looking back, I'm pretty sure our parents were more ok with it than they let on at the time. Cause no one ever got more than the "don't do it again" each time.
Good times.
-- Edited by lilyofcourse on Monday 16th of March 2015 01:22:57 AM
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
