How mean parents can be!!!

Up until I was five & a bit we lived in northern Queensland, north of Cooketown, Cape Yorke. My only friends were local aboriginal kids. We used to play the aboriginal version of chicken. We'd walk along the estuary until we found a crocodile lurking looking for some tucker, we didn't have to walk far as they were plentifully up there. One of us would lay about ten meters from the waters edge with our eyes closed & wait until it came sneaking out of the water, the other kids would hide nearby in the scrub. The object of the exercise was to wait until the other's yelled run, if you ran beforehand, you were a chicken. We used to wait until the crock got pretty close before we call out. My father happened to be driving past in his boat & caught us, he took me home & went uncontrollably ape shit at me. See this is the problem with parents these days, they can't just let kids be kids, we moved back to the Sydney not long after that... hmmmmm