In Kindergarten back in Holland, our "playground" consisted of two cars from the wreckers that were placed amongst the trees. It was great.
Whenever we got to the next campground on family holidays (80's), my brothers and I got to stand on the back bumper of the '76 Pontiac wagon, hold on to the roof racks and our dad would tour the campground looking for spots. Later, it became the running boards of the Chevy van.
About 12 years ago, when our youngest was 8 or so, I picked him and his friend up from the community centre and let them ride in the back of my truck (it had a topper with no back window). Maybe a 3 minute drive. I had some lady follow me home and start lecturing me and telling me she was going to call the cops. I wrote down my license plate, gave it to her and told her to go ahead. Bemoei je er niet mee, trut...
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