that thread about the things our parents did got me thinking about the things I did.
I used to play on a building site. we used to make dens in these huge mounds of soil and rubble. we'd find bits of ply or wood and make tunnels and roofs .
Play in the totally derelict eaves above the virtually derelict milking shed in the farm next door, daylight seeping through every crack and hole in the floor. rats and mice all over the place
clamber over and play on the rusty abandoned tractors in same farm. not so bad but not great either
harass our neighbours by "spying" on them. sneaking into their overgrown garden and prying through their windows before running away giggling and screaming