Stepped on
Richmond Hill, ON, April 2010
About this photo: It's dot week here at Written Inc. If you'd like to participate in our latest Thematic Photographic theme, just click here and all will be revealed (it won't even hurt!)Jungle gyms sure aren't like they used to be. Ever advancing safety standards have completely transformed the playground environment. Gone are creaky-looking structures built out of railroad ties (leaking creosote...yum!) and in their place are colorful creations designed to foster cooperation and physical fitness.
The photographer in me kind of enjoys the new park world order, as it offers up an almost endless parade of photo opps. Oh, and it's managed to keep my kids out of the ER (so far, anyway.) Still, I miss those climbing-rocket things that managed to put the fear of G-d into you from the moment you first set eyes on it. Being scared is something today's kids will have to learn somewhere else, because the playground is no longer the risk-prone place it once was.
Your turn: What was your best or worst playground experience.
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3 comments:
Worst was when my brother jumped off his end of the see-saw without warning. My end went flying up, and I hit myself on the metal handlebar, knocking out one of my front teeth. Fortunately it was one of my baby teeth, and probably not too far coming out in the natural course of things, but it put me off see-saws for a long time. (I think in North America they might be called teeter-totters)
Most dangerous place for me was Chepstow Roman Villa remains; I tripped over a wall and knocked my front teeth out. Luckily, like Catherine, it was my baby teeth - but it was very early so I spent a long time wishing for my two front teeth.
Playgrounds were easy - it was everything else that was a hazard! :-)
I was informed years ago that 'playground padding' is not there to protect the children but the local authority from litigation......
cq
Oddly enough, the most traumatic experience I ever had with playground equipment was in my own back yard when a glider swing caught the heel of my hand between the pole it was suspended from and the steel piece that kept it from flying too high. Nine stitches later I was right back in the game. Four year olds are made of rubber I tell ya. Or used to be anyway.
I went in search of some dots in Carrboro Friday night and found this. Not sure what kind of establishment it is, but it certainly fit the theme.
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