My parents as children, awoken by the sweet smell of pancakes, and the sound of bacon sizzling. My siblings and I as children, awoken by the clanging of the alarms on our electronic devices.
     My parents as children, thrown out the locked door with strict instructions to be back before the street lights turn on. My siblings and I as children, restricted to the areas with a strong wifi connection.
     My parents as children, contacting their friends by running down the street, or dialing them by muscle memory on the landline phone. My siblings and I as children, texting one another via our own iPads and iPhones.
     My parents as children, covered in bumps, bruises, and scratches that should have received medical attention, but told to slap a bandage on it and get back outside. My siblings and I as children, would get one bump or bruise that kept us inside for a week.