I had a great childhood. Living in the last house of the village, in the middle of woods provided a great place to be outside. Plenty of books inside made life pleasant too. And two loving parents who saw every kid as an individual, without using standards of how they should be, as long as they tried their best. Dad took us with him on long field working days if he could. Those were great days.
Our house was open for others, but there was always a place to be on your own too. Two of my brothers are capable of having many friends. They could bring the whole bulk of them home, without my parents stressing or what. Funny, they both were not people to have plenty folk around them. But they dealt awesome with invasions.
Secondary school sucked for a few years. But, I did get a few quirky friends there. So, it was not all bad. Stayed a lot with a friend with unconventional kind and brainy parents. That expanded my view on life.
Of course I had tiffs with parents, fights with brothers, and bullying experiences at school. But, home was safe, loving and encouraging. It was good. So, my childhood was great.