Latest news with #Spam
The Irish Sun
a day ago
- The Irish Sun
Shopkeeper hit with spate of thefts forced to TACKLE shoplifters himself as courts ‘just let them off the hook'
A SHOPKEEPER fed up with a spate of thefts has been forced to tackle shoplifters himself, saying the courts 'just let them off the hook'. Andrew Board, 39, who runs a convenience store in Durham, Co Durham, has become a local have-a-go hero - chasing down thieves, physically dragging them back into the shop, and banning dozens from stepping foot through the door again. Advertisement 5 The shopkeeper says he will 'protect and defend' the store from shoplifters Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Andrew Board has been running his Premier convenience store for six years Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Andrew says shoplifting is having a major impact on his business Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board After six years of running his Premier store, the retailer had reached the end of his tether at being robbed blind while courts dish out slap on the wrist punishments to shoplifters. He said: "It's just got worse and worse because there's no deterrent. Crime pays at the moment. "The police have bent it over backwards to try and get all these criminals put before the courts, and they're as frustrated as we are, that they're basically just letting them off the hook. "They might get a caution or a rehabilitation order, but there's very little to stop them just going out and doing it again." Advertisement Read More on UK News Andrew has chased suspects around the estate and recently dragged a man who swiped a crate of Fosters back into the shop. After his brave citizen's arrest, police arrested the thief - only to spare him prosecution and hand out a community resolution instead. Andrew said: "The outcome was that he would just pay for the beer and it would be forgotten about. Despite him being on an electronic tag at the time. "How is that justice? What kind of message does that send if the worst-case scenario is they just have to give the stuff back?" Advertisement Most read in The Sun CCTV footage shows thieves being caught in the act - including a woman sliding tubs of Lurpak inside her coat and another nicking a bottle of wine. Other clips show Andrew and his staff grappling with shoplifters and hauling them back into the shop to await arrest. Moment Co-op worker grabs fleeing shoplifter by the THROAT to stop him making off with arms full of stolen items Shoplifting at the store has become so rampant that some products have been pulled entirely. Lurpak, Nescafe, tubs of fabric softener and even Spam have been removed after being targeted by drug addicts keen to pay off their debts. Advertisement Andrew said: "We had one prolific thief who was in constantly, shoving Lurpak down her coat. "She wears a lined coat, like a pro. She's been in court over and over again, but not once has been gone to prison." The store's banned list has grown to over 40 names. Andrew knows many having grown up and lived in the area all his life. Advertisement He has chased thieves around the estate, through back lanes and over fences. Andrew said: "There's no stereotypical shoplifter, I've had eight-year-olds stealing. Middle-aged people stealing to pay drug debts. Pensioners in their eighties stuffing things down their coat. "There's no set sort of character of what makes a shoplifter now." Andrew credits the police for trying but says officers are shackled by rules and red tape. Advertisement He is in a WhatsApp group with other retailers who track offenders and warn each other when someone's on the move. But police officers are not allowed to use WhatsApp. So while the group moves in real time, officers can be left catching up. Andrew told how the scourge of shoplifting had taken a toll on his staff, none of whom signed up to facing down criminals. Andrew said: "I've got some tools of the trade on me. I don't give them a chance to react. I work on shock tactics. Advertisement "I do have some restraint where it's needed. I would only retaliate if someone was volatile with me. I'm forceful in the immediate stage, but then if someone was going to pull a scrap with me, then I would hold my own. "I tell the staff to challenge but only if they feel safe. 'Often they'll ring me because I only live nearby. "My wife knows that I can handle myself and I do have a sensible head on my shoulders. But she's always going to worry in case anything does happen." Advertisement Nationally, half a million shoplifting offences in England and Wales were recorded by police last year, up 20 per cent from 2023. Andrew says shoplifting is having a major impact on small business struggling with ever-shrinking profit margins. He said: "These people are stealing out of my pocket because this is my business and I won't have it anymore. "Small businesses now, they're closing left, right and centre, because all the extra expenses we're now subject to, all the extra regulations we're now being bound by that we've got to fork out our own pockets for. Advertisement "Wages and overheads are all going up. National insurance payments have gone up. "So we're being hammered left, right and centre. And now all these thieves are just coming in like it's a free-for-all. "People think acquisitive crime is harmless but if I go under, then the post office in the shop goes too. The community loses out and that's not fair. "Shoplifting will not go down until something in the legal system changes." Advertisement In a Facebook post in April, the store warned: "We aren't one of those large corporate stores making millions and can absorb losses due to theft. We're a small, local, family run business that does its best to cater for the community. "All thefts are a theft direct from our pocket and jeopardise our ability to trade and serve our community. Because of this, we absolutely WILL protect and defend ourselves against thieves and anyone caught will be dealt with accordingly." A Durham Police spokeswoman said: 'Shoplifting is a significant issue nationwide , and County Durham and Darlington is no different. 'We take this type of offending extremely seriously and work hard to tackle the issue across our force area. Advertisement 'A large proportion of shoplifting offences are opportunistic and committed by people with drug or alcohol addictions. 'That's why, as a force, we must look at the bigger picture and find out why individuals offend in the first place and seek to address the underlying reasons for their offending." 5 Andrew isn't afraid to confront those trying to steal from his store Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Half a million shoplifting offences in England and Wales were recorded by police last year, up 20 per cent from 2023 Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board Advertisement
Scottish Sun
a day ago
- Scottish Sun
Shopkeeper hit with spate of thefts forced to TACKLE shoplifters himself as courts ‘just let them off the hook'
More than 40 people have also been banned from the convenience store TOUGH TACKLE Shopkeeper hit with spate of thefts forced to TACKLE shoplifters himself as courts 'just let them off the hook' A SHOPKEEPER fed up with a spate of thefts has been forced to tackle shoplifters himself, saying the courts 'just let them off the hook'. Andrew Board, 39, who runs a convenience store in Durham, Co Durham, has become a local have-a-go hero - chasing down thieves, physically dragging them back into the shop, and banning dozens from stepping foot through the door again. Advertisement 5 The shopkeeper says he will 'protect and defend' the store from shoplifters Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Andrew Board has been running his Premier convenience store for six years Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Andrew says shoplifting is having a major impact on his business Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board After six years of running his Premier store, the retailer had reached the end of his tether at being robbed blind while courts dish out slap on the wrist punishments to shoplifters. He said: "It's just got worse and worse because there's no deterrent. Crime pays at the moment. "The police have bent it over backwards to try and get all these criminals put before the courts, and they're as frustrated as we are, that they're basically just letting them off the hook. "They might get a caution or a rehabilitation order, but there's very little to stop them just going out and doing it again." Advertisement Andrew has chased suspects around the estate and recently dragged a man who swiped a crate of Fosters back into the shop. After his brave citizen's arrest, police arrested the thief - only to spare him prosecution and hand out a community resolution instead. Andrew said: "The outcome was that he would just pay for the beer and it would be forgotten about. Despite him being on an electronic tag at the time. "How is that justice? What kind of message does that send if the worst-case scenario is they just have to give the stuff back?" Advertisement CCTV footage shows thieves being caught in the act - including a woman sliding tubs of Lurpak inside her coat and another nicking a bottle of wine. Other clips show Andrew and his staff grappling with shoplifters and hauling them back into the shop to await arrest. Moment Co-op worker grabs fleeing shoplifter by the THROAT to stop him making off with arms full of stolen items Shoplifting at the store has become so rampant that some products have been pulled entirely. Lurpak, Nescafe, tubs of fabric softener and even Spam have been removed after being targeted by drug addicts keen to pay off their debts. Advertisement Andrew said: "We had one prolific thief who was in constantly, shoving Lurpak down her coat. "She wears a lined coat, like a pro. She's been in court over and over again, but not once has been gone to prison." The store's banned list has grown to over 40 names. Andrew knows many having grown up and lived in the area all his life. Advertisement He has chased thieves around the estate, through back lanes and over fences. Andrew said: "There's no stereotypical shoplifter, I've had eight-year-olds stealing. Middle-aged people stealing to pay drug debts. Pensioners in their eighties stuffing things down their coat. "There's no set sort of character of what makes a shoplifter now." Andrew credits the police for trying but says officers are shackled by rules and red tape. Advertisement He is in a WhatsApp group with other retailers who track offenders and warn each other when someone's on the move. But police officers are not allowed to use WhatsApp. So while the group moves in real time, officers can be left catching up. Andrew told how the scourge of shoplifting had taken a toll on his staff, none of whom signed up to facing down criminals. Andrew said: "I've got some tools of the trade on me. I don't give them a chance to react. I work on shock tactics. Advertisement "I do have some restraint where it's needed. I would only retaliate if someone was volatile with me. I'm forceful in the immediate stage, but then if someone was going to pull a scrap with me, then I would hold my own. "I tell the staff to challenge but only if they feel safe. 'Often they'll ring me because I only live nearby. "My wife knows that I can handle myself and I do have a sensible head on my shoulders. But she's always going to worry in case anything does happen." Advertisement Nationally, half a million shoplifting offences in England and Wales were recorded by police last year, up 20 per cent from 2023. Andrew says shoplifting is having a major impact on small business struggling with ever-shrinking profit margins. He said: "These people are stealing out of my pocket because this is my business and I won't have it anymore. "Small businesses now, they're closing left, right and centre, because all the extra expenses we're now subject to, all the extra regulations we're now being bound by that we've got to fork out our own pockets for. Advertisement "Wages and overheads are all going up. National insurance payments have gone up. "So we're being hammered left, right and centre. And now all these thieves are just coming in like it's a free-for-all. "People think acquisitive crime is harmless but if I go under, then the post office in the shop goes too. The community loses out and that's not fair. "Shoplifting will not go down until something in the legal system changes." Advertisement In a Facebook post in April, the store warned: "We aren't one of those large corporate stores making millions and can absorb losses due to theft. We're a small, local, family run business that does its best to cater for the community. "All thefts are a theft direct from our pocket and jeopardise our ability to trade and serve our community. Because of this, we absolutely WILL protect and defend ourselves against thieves and anyone caught will be dealt with accordingly." A Durham Police spokeswoman said: 'Shoplifting is a significant issue nationwide, and County Durham and Darlington is no different. 'We take this type of offending extremely seriously and work hard to tackle the issue across our force area. Advertisement 'A large proportion of shoplifting offences are opportunistic and committed by people with drug or alcohol addictions. 'That's why, as a force, we must look at the bigger picture and find out why individuals offend in the first place and seek to address the underlying reasons for their offending." 5 Andrew isn't afraid to confront those trying to steal from his store Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board 5 Half a million shoplifting offences in England and Wales were recorded by police last year, up 20 per cent from 2023 Credit: Midlands Media Agency/Andrew Board
RTÉ News
01-07-2025
- Entertainment
- RTÉ News
Monty Python props from final live show up for auction
Dozens of props, costumes, and a lifelike llama from Monty Python's final live show are being auctioned. Fans will be able to get their hands on rare items from Terry Gilliam's personal collection, which are included as part of an online Propstore sale of around 90 items with bidding open until Sunday 20 July. More than 60 of the lots are from Monty Python Live (Mostly) at London's O2 arena in 2014, which is thought to be the last time the troupe will perform together. Formed in 1969, the group was made up of the comics Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, Michael Palin, and Gilliam. Palin said their 2014 show, which featured all the Pythons except Chapman, who died of cancer in 1989, was "the show to end all Python shows" - and he hopes some of the costumes and props can be passed on to their "greatest and most loyal fans". " Monty Python Live (Mostly) at the O2 was the show to end all Python shows," the 82-year-old said. "None of us had ever experienced an audience reaction on that scale, proving conclusively that it is possible to be silly after 70. "We couldn't better that show and since the sad death of Terry Jones, we must admit that the O2 show was Python's farewell." Jones died in 2020 aged 77 from a rare form of dementia. Palin added: "But thanks to the auction the costumes and some of the props can be passed on, hopefully to Python's greatest and most loyal fans." Among the outfits up for sale are Gilliam's "I've Got Two Legs" costume, Idle's Galaxy Song suit and globe, Cleese's albatross costume and wig, and a dress worn by actress Carol Cleveland. Props include a spam menu from the Spam sketch, a lifelike llama, and a fake dead parrot and bird cage. From Gilliam's personal collection are five autographed Monty Python and the Holy Grail Funko Pop toys and a Python fruit machine. Stephen Lane, Chief Executive of Propstore, which is auctioning the lots, said: "Monty Python's legacy is truly unrivalled - they've been a comedy touchstone for generations of fans across the globe."
Yahoo
24-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Hormel Foods names interim chief exec but still no permanent CEO
Hormel Foods has appointed former CEO and board member Jeffrey Ettinger as the US group's interim chief executive – and said it will be more than a year until the role is filled permanently. Jim Snee, the Skippy peanut butter maker's CEO and president, announced his retirement in January after eight years at the helm. In a statement yesterday (23 June), Hormel said Ettinger would hold the role of interim CEO up to some time in October next year. "The Hormel Foods CEO search committee will now be dissolved, with the board planning to install the permanent chief executive officer in October 2026," Hormel said. The company also announced John Ghingo will be promoted to the role of president. Ghingo is executive vice president for Hormel's retail business unit, which houses the company's consumer brands. He has been in the role since 2024 after four years leading Hormel subsidiary Applegate Farms. Ettinger stepped down from the position of CEO in 2016 to serve as Hormel's chairman of the board. 'During his tenure, Ettinger earned a reputation for driving performance and results. With his deep knowledge of the company and its culture, and his experience with the company's external stakeholders, he will be a strong partner to Ghingo,' Hormel said yesterday. Last month, the Spam maker reported a drop in half-year profits on the back of weak sales growth. Operating income in the six months to 27 April dropped 11% to $477m and declined 9% on an adjusted basis to $519m. Net earnings stood at $350.3m, versus $407.9m in the corresponding period the previous year. Net sales inched up 0.1% to $5.89bn. On an organic basis, net sales grew 1%. In the second quarter, the sales from Hormel's retail division were flat, with volumes declining 7% amid "lower commodity shipments and contract manufacturing". Speaking to analysts after Hormel announced the results, the company's management said it expects its growth to accelerate in the second half. "Hormel Foods names interim chief exec but still no permanent CEO" was originally created and published by Just Food, a GlobalData owned brand. The information on this site has been included in good faith for general informational purposes only. It is not intended to amount to advice on which you should rely, and we give no representation, warranty or guarantee, whether express or implied as to its accuracy or completeness. You must obtain professional or specialist advice before taking, or refraining from, any action on the basis of the content on our site. Sign in to access your portfolio
Yahoo
23-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Bizarre Things Old School Parents Used To Do—And Brag About
The nostalgia of yesteryears, when parenting looked less like a curated Instagram post and more like a candid behind-the-scenes reel. Your parents' tales of their upbringing might sound like tall tales, but they were the reality. Through the lens of modern sensibilities, these old-school parenting quirks seem incredibly bizarre, if not downright shocking. But in their day, they were worn like badges of honor—stories of survival, resilience, and sometimes sheer madness. Here are 15 peculiar things your parents' generation did, and still might brag about, as if they were Olympic feats. Back in the day, kids were released into the wilds of suburbia with nothing but a watch and a command to return home before dark. You might hear tales of how they went from house to house, picking up friends along the way, living an unsupervised existence that could make today's helicopter parents shudder. Sociologist William Doherty noted in his research that this "free-range" style of upbringing encouraged autonomy and problem-solving but at a cost of safety. It's the stuff of legends, really—like if Huck Finn met a cul-de-sac. And when they tell you about the time they biked ten miles solo to buy a candy bar, it's with a glint of nostalgia and a whiff of incredulity. It's as if the neighborhood itself was a co-parent, setting boundaries invisible to the adult eye. This kind of freedom cultivated a unique type of resilience, a DIY ethic that today's youth might find unfamiliar. Somehow they survived, thrived even, living to tell the tale and pass down this peculiar heritage of rugged independence. Remember those suspiciously grayish meats that showed up on your plate? Your parents speak of them like fine dining experiences from a lost age. Canned meats, TV dinners, and everything covered in gelatin were not just meals; they were culinary adventures. It's as if your generation was the last to experience meat as an enigma, wrapped in a can, served with a side of curiosity. They brag about your childhood nutritional intake like it was a rite of passage. "Oh, you think eating kale is tough? We survived on Spam and Vienna sausages!" they'd say, with a pride that borders on bemusement. Their stories, part horror and part hilarity, are shared with a reverence usually reserved for tales of survival. You get the sense that, for them, those meals were less about sustenance and more about building character. There was a time when parents disciplined their children not in the privacy of their homes but out in the open. A public scolding or a well-timed lecture in the grocery store aisle was considered effective parenting. Research by child psychologist Dr. Laura Markham has shown that such public shaming can lead to long-term emotional scars, yet for your parents, it was a tool of immediate compliance. The shame was a lesson, and the audience was the neighborhood. These tales are shared with the same mix of pride and cringe as a varsity game win. "You think grounding is tough? Try being lectured in the checkout line," they might say. There's a rawness to these memories, as if each recounted incident carries the weight of both trauma and triumph. The embarrassment was a currency they traded in, ensuring you would remember your misstep for years to come. The tales of going to bed hungry as a punishment are as frequent as they are unsettling. It's the kind of discipline that today's parents might find draconian but was once a commonly wielded tool in the parental arsenal. They talk about those nights like war stories, a testament to their resilience. But beneath the bravado, there's a hint of unease, a tacit acknowledgment of the cruelty wrapped in the guise of discipline. Parents recount these tales with a tone that mixes nostalgia with defiance. "You didn't eat your peas? Off to bed, no more food till morning!" they'd say, as if denying sustenance was a universally understood language of tough love. It's a relic of an era when parenting had a certain hardness to it, a belief that discomfort built character. The question remains, though—did it build resilience, or simply breed resentment? Seatbelts? Helmets? Child safety seats? Your parents might laugh at these modern-day essentials as if they were the punchline to a joke. In a study by safety expert Dr. Alan Williams, it was noted that the enforcement of safety regulations only became mainstream in the late '80s, meaning many children before then were essentially crash-test dummies. Their stories of bouncing around the backseat like pinballs carry a reckless charm, an ode to a time when rules were more like suggestions. The tales often come with a side of wonder—how did they survive such hazardous childhoods? "We didn't need helmets, we were tougher back then!" is a common refrain, delivered with a mix of bravado and disbelief. It's as if each story is a badge of honor, an emblem of their indomitable spirit. But you can't help but wonder if there's a touch of relief that their risky approach to parenting didn't result in more calamities. In their youth, thumbing a ride was as common as ordering an Uber today. Your parents speak of hitchhiking like it was a sacred ritual, an art form that required skill, charm, and a dash of bravado. They recount these tales with a pride that borders on the mythic, as if each successful ride was a testament to their savvy street smarts. It's a mystery how they look back on these potentially dangerous journeys with such fondness. Their stories sound like an adventure novel, filled with colorful characters and unexpected twists. "Back then, everyone was a friend, just waiting to be met," they might say, the romanticism coloring their narrative. It was a world where trust was currency, and danger was something you sidestepped with a smile and a wave. Each story is a reminder of a time when the world felt smaller and friendlier, albeit at times, more perilous. The sight of a parent casually puffing on a cigarette with a child in tow seems almost cinematic now, a relic from a bygone era. However, the normalization of smoking in family spaces was once so entrenched that it wasn't just common; it was expected. Research by Dr. Stanton Glantz from the University of California highlights the long-term health risks associated with secondhand smoke, yet such concerns were not widely acknowledged until much later. For your parents, lighting up at a family gathering was just part of the social fabric. Hearing these tales, you might feel an incredulous mix of horror and fascination. "We smoked in the house, in the car, everywhere!" they'll recount, as if recalling a time when the air was thick with both smoke and carefree abandon. The health ramifications were an afterthought, overshadowed by the social norm. Their stories paint a vivid picture of a time when ignorance was bliss, and the air was filled with more than just nostalgia. Lighting fireworks in the backyard was not just a pastime; it was a family event that bordered on the pyrotechnic equivalent of a gladiator match. Your parents speak of these annual rituals with a gleam in their eye, as if each sparkler held the potential for both magic and mischief. With little more than a bucket of water as a safety measure, these shows were less about regulation and more about spectacle. The flash and bang were an anthem of a carefree childhood. Their stories feel like a mix of danger and delight, each tale more daring than the last. "We didn't need professionals; we had Uncle Joe!" they'll laugh, reliving the thrill of lighting fuses with a steady hand and a brave heart. It was a time when the unpredictability of fireworks matched the unpredictability of life. There's a rawness to these memories, a reminder of a time when boundaries were blurred, and caution took a backseat to celebration. Your parents might recall a time when visiting the doctor was a last resort, not a first option. From homemade casts to mystery concoctions applied to cuts, their tales of at-home medical care are both alarming and oddly impressive. It's as if every household were a frontier clinic, where innovation met necessity in the guise of parental wisdom. Their stories brim with a certain pride, a declaration of their self-sufficiency, can-do attitude. "You kids today have it easy with your urgent cares and telemedicine," they might scoff, recounting tales of splinting broken fingers with popsicle sticks. It was an era when medical advice often came from a neighbor or a well-thumbed home remedy book. The DIY approach was less about lack of resources and more about an ingrained belief in personal responsibility. Each story is a testament to their resourcefulness, as well as a nod to a time when healthcare was as much about heart as it was about healing. Once upon a time, the line between childhood and adulthood was as blurred as the edges of a well-loved photograph. Your parents might speak of summer jobs that seem more like tales from Dickens than modern-day anecdotes. They recount these experiences with a sense of pride, as if each job was a stepping stone to adulthood, a lesson in responsibility learned at a tender age. It's a testament to an era when childhood was not cocooned in bubble wrap. Their stories come with a mix of grit and gratitude, a nod to the formative power of hard work. "You think your part-time job is tough? Try working a hot dog stand in July," they'd laugh, remembering the sweat and toil with a peculiar fondness. It was a time when work was both labor and life lesson, a rite of passage that built character as much as it built a paycheck. Through their stories, you glimpse a world where the divide between child and adult was narrower, but perhaps more enriching. In the past, questioning authority, especially parental authority, often led to an abrupt shutdown. The phrase "because I said so" was the ultimate conversation ender—a parental mic drop, if you will. Your parents wielded it with the authority of a seasoned diplomat, ending debates with a swift, unyielding finality. There was no negotiation, only the cold, hard reality of submission to an authority that was absolute. Their tales of these interactions are shared with a mix of defiance and understanding, as if they too were victims and enforcers of this old guard. "You kids today ask too many questions," they might say, reflecting on a time when obedience was demanded, not earned. It's a reminder of the dynamics of power, a dance of wills that was often one-sided. Yet, beneath it all, there's a recognition of the complex web of love, power, and control that defined their upbringing. The backyard pool was like the Wild West of aquatic fun—unregulated, unsupervised, and undeniably thrilling. Your parents might recount tales of impromptu pool parties where the only rule was to have fun. It was a world where diving boards were launch pads for imagination, and cannonballs were a rite of passage. The water was filled with laughter and a touch of danger, a combination that made each splash memorable. Their stories brim with the joy of reckless abandon, a reminder of a time when childhood was a little less safe but a lot more vivid. "We didn't need lifeguards, we had each other!" they'd say, their words tinged with the sweetness of nostalgia. It's a snapshot of an era when play was less about structure and more about spontaneity. Through their tales, you catch a glimpse of a world where the boundaries were as fluid as the water itself. Your parents are the last generation to have navigated the world without the comforting glow of a GPS on the dashboard. They speak of reading maps like they were ancient scrolls, deciphering routes with a mix of intuition and guesswork. It was a dance with uncertainty, where getting lost was part of the journey rather than an error to be corrected. Their tales are filled with misadventures and unexpected discoveries, a testament to the art of navigation as a lost skill. They share these stories with a mix of pride and nostalgia, a nod to their resourcefulness in the face of uncertainty. "You kids today have it easy, just follow the blue line," they might say, recalling a time when the world was a larger, more mysterious place. Their stories are a reminder of the joys of exploration, the thrill of the unknown. It's a glimpse into a world where technology took a backseat to intuition, and every journey was an adventure waiting to unfold. Long before texting became the primary mode of communication, there were marathon phone calls. Your parents might recount evenings spent tangled in the phone cord, whispering secrets and sharing dreams. It was an era when the phone was a lifeline, a conduit for human connection in its purest form. Their stories are filled with the warmth of long conversations, a nod to a time when communication required time, patience, and a sturdy neck. They speak of these calls with a mix of nostalgia and reverence, a reminder of the power of voice in an increasingly digital world. "Texting is convenient, but there's nothing like hearing someone's laugh on the other end," they'll say, acknowledging the magic of those analog connections. It's a testament to the art of conversation, a skill that is slowly fading in the world of emojis and abbreviations. Through their tales, you catch a glimpse of a world where words were not just exchanged but savored. Then, sibling rivalries were less about bickering over screen time and more about survival of the fittest. Your parents recount battles that could rival epic sagas, a mix of love and rivalry that defined their childhood. It was a world where disputes were settled on the playground, and the victor earned not just bragging rights but a place in the family hierarchy. Their stories are filled with the rough and tumble of childhood, a testament to the resilience built in the fires of sibling competition. They tell these tales with a mix of exasperation and affection, recognizing the role these rivalries played in shaping their identities. "You kids have it easy, just bicker over who gets the iPad," they might laugh, recalling the bruises and battles of yesteryears. It's a reminder of a time when family dynamics were less about negotiation and more about asserting dominance. Yet beneath it all lies a deep-seated love, the kind forged in the crucible of shared childhood.
