22yr olds today
22 year olds today seem to cry and hide in a safe space if you don't identify them with their correct made up gender pronoun. What a world we live in.
A.K.A. The 'cotton wool generation'.
My grandkids think that of the tales I tell them about my childhood are fiction. Then I show them the photos taken on a pre-ww2 Box Brownie and later an Instamatic.
We did things 'because we could' especially in the summer hols.
Three of us cycled the 20+ miles to Adhown Forest one day to play 'poo sticks' at the home of the game. Then we rode home in time for tea.
Sounds like something out of an Enid Blyton story...