Becoming "It"

It seems to be a generational thing that the older we get, the more nostalgic we get about our summertime childhoods.

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Ah, those were the days. Playing outside all summer long until dark. Mom making up a batch of Kool-Aid (1 packet + 1 cup of sugar = a little slice of heaven on a hot day). Summers seemed to go on and on, playing and chasing fireflies and such.

This makes me wonder what the current crop of kids will be nostalgic for when they get to that certain age.

"Why, in my day, my parents wouldn't let me have a phone until I was five. And it was only an Apple 15. Can you believe it?"

While I still occasionally see kids playing catch with their dads or riding bikes, things are certainly different than they were in the beforetimes. Activities are scheduled and regulated in a way they seldom were back then. And I think it's a little sad that many of the traditional games and rhymes have been lost over the years.

I'm not sure what sparked it, but the other day I began reciting, "Engine, Engine, Number 9, running down Chicago Line, if the train should jump the track, do you want your money back? Y-e-s spells yes (or n-o spells no), and out you go into the deep blue sea, you dirty old dishrag you."

Mr. Ginley says he remembers the first part, but not the dirty dishrag part. (I couldn't find that part on google, either, so maybe it's something unique to our freaky family?)

For those of you who are scratching your head at this point, permit me to explain.

When you were choosing someone – for example, the kid who was going to be "it" in Tag – each of you would hold out your fist, and the designated leader would tap each hand as he or she recited the above. At the end of the question, the person whose hand they landed on would answer "yes" or "no," and the tapping would continue until the leader tapped the final fist. That's how someone was chosen.

There were also a lot of ditties that we jumped rope to. (Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black, had silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back...)

I'm fairly certain it was an older sibling who taught me these things, but I wonder who taught the oldest kid? 

Memory is a funny thing. So many childhood memories are cemented firmly into our minds, while current bits and pieces are lost in the ether.

Oh, well, thanks for strolling down memory lane with me. Feel free to share your own childhood rhymes!

Photo attribution: Agriculture And Stock Department, Publicity Branch, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons