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Mymemory of outdoor toys.
Thefirst outdoor toy I ever played onwas a trampoline. It was a cheapfacsimile of the theme park versions that I had hopped up and down on as asmall child. Barely two metres in width on both sides, it gave out after amonth of heavy usage. The springs simply could not take my youthful exertion.So my father upgraded to an adult-sized trampolinewith a safety enclosure for good measure. This outdoor toy was hardy andcould take the weight of myself and my brother's incessant jumping sprees. Wewould not have to upgrade it for a very long time afterwards.
My tastefor outdoor toys grew as I did.After another summer disappeared into memory, a swinging bench was installedunder the much-maligned fig tree which stank up the garden with its rottingfruit. I could scarcely believe the amount of fun I had, swinging like ahyperactive monkey under the thick branch of this evil tree. The fun quicklyended when I discovered that the base of my swing had become a colony forbutton-spiders. Instead of telling my father and letting him eradicate theproblem for me, I decided to never use it again. I believe that this option wasthe best.
Whenswings and trampolines could no longer contain my boundless energy, my parentserected what was possibly the greatest outdoortoy of them all, namely an above-ground swimming pool. The sheer elationthat teemed from my tiny body could barely restrain my enthusiasm for thisproject. It was quickly assembled and filled with water. It came with a simplefilter and one rickety set of stairs, but I will be dammed if it wasn't themost fun (pre-Nintendo) that I had ever had in my life. It rapidly become dirtyand stained with grass, beetles loved to dive-bomb into the waters and swiminto my hair and the pool-stairs became a danger to all and sundry, yet itremained a firm favourite for many years.
As Imatured, my tastes in outdoor toysbecame slightly more advanced and wanting. The countless action movies that Ihad watched on repeat had inspired my cousin, my brother and myself to purchaseBB guns. The upgraded versions of course, aptly named ?Gats?. These were heavy,steel instruments of prepubescent destruction and felt dangerous in our fingers.The irony was of course that the pellets could do as much harm as shooting apea out of straw. An eye could be damaged of course, but it was impossible(much to my dismay) to shatter bottles or break wooden beams. The Gats quicklybecame too underpowered to keep our waning interests, so we simply discardedthem in the neighbourhood drainage systems.
My finaloutdoor toy came in the form of amountain bike. It was an economy model, with tight brakes and a propensity forslipping on rainy surfaces. That particular craze lasted all of three months,roundabout the time I received my first Nintendo console. The world of gamingdrew me out of the child-like succour that outdoortoys had gifted me. One day, my child can revel in their own dream world,filled with whichever outdoor toysthey wish to own; and I will happily stand by their side as they enjoy it.