There was a time when boyhood was wild, unstructured and wonderfully messy. When creek beds became racing channels for homemade boats, hay bales transformed into mountain ranges begging to be conquered and backyard disagreements resolved with wrestling matches and handshakes.
Boys spent afternoons building — and spectacularly failing. Their tree swings broke, bows snapped and tunnels collapsed. But failure was just part of the fun — dust yourself off, adjust and try again.
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