Back in my day, we drank razor blades and traversed bear-trapped mountains. We gingerly walked 15 miles on ants made of glass that spilled sulfuric acid when you stepped too hard. All of this to get to a playground that wanted to murder us.
This may look like a lovingly-crafted metal rocket made by a Cortez father for his children circa 1961, but it’s not. It’s an example of crippling, sadistic playground fodder.
Don’t worry though, those kids, I’m sure they walked it off.
Walked off what?
First off, anything built before 1978 is bound to have lead paint. Sorry, kiddos, those cute accent colors you sometimes licked or peeled? They poisoned you.
Next, the height of that rocket. How many broken wrists, toes, and whatnots occurred falling from that thing?
Lastly, there’s no edging whatsoever to the metal windows or door to that monstrosity. I’m sure all the bleeding and that one beheading just built character.
Patty TempletonDGO Staff Writer
