another childhood memory

 I grew up in a fairly wealthy "bedroom" community. My parents probably had less money than some people (though maybe not *much* less; my father was a low-level university administrator). They weren't into conspicuous consumption so it seemed like we had less money than a lot of the kids I knew from school - like, my clothes were more likely to be a store brand than a name brand, and toys were mainly things for Christmas or birthday gifts unless my brother or I saved up our small allowances. 

But there was one other way we were different. And it was a good way. I remember some of my school-friends, they weren't permitted to bring their toys out of their rooms because of the "mess," and forget ever doing crafts, or painting, or really anything messy. These were often the people who had "cleaning ladies" (we did not; the expectation was you cleaned up after yourself and also we all had chores)

Our house wasn't as fancy or as "magazine shot" perfect as many other people's in that town - there were books around, and usually toys in the family room (the Lego bricks lived there, because my brother and I shared them. I think also our parents liked that we were sort of close by them instead of just off in our rooms). We were allowed to bring toys out of our rooms and play with them - well, pretty much anywhere, as long as we cleaned them up after (okay, maybe not at the dinner table at dinnertime, but most other places. I remember setting up my little farm with all the animals on the living room floor, no one cared as long as I put it away when I was done). 

We were also allowed to do craft projects - build stuff out of cardboard boxes, or paint, or similar, and we could do it on the kitchen table (or even the dining room table) as long as the table was clear for the next meal. In fact, more than once, we would eat at one table because there were our paintings drying on another one.

(Oh, this extended to my parents, too: my mom cut out clothes she was going to sew on the dining room table, and some year my dad did the taxes there. But we also had the kitchen table, which was where we usually ate). 

And we had a lot of houseplants (I knew some people who turned up their noses at that, "houseplants are messy") and my brother and I were allowed to keep insects in jars (for a few days) or raise caterpillars (we did that many years with Monarch caterpillars, which used to be pretty common, and then we released the butterflies when they emerged). A couple years we even had a tank of tadpoles or of turtles. Part of this was my mother is a biologist, and I think she wanted us to learn things like the metamorphosis of butterflies and frogs by observation. One year she even grew peanuts - ill-suited for Ohio's climate - just so we could see how the fruits developed (underground, peanuts are one of the few, if not the only, plant that does that). 

Our house was *maybe* more bohemian/less refined than some of the people we know, but I think it was fundamentally happier in a lot of ways.