I Remember . . . When I Was a Kid

I remember the bologna of my childhood, 

And the bread that we cut with a knife, 

When the children helped with the housework, 

And the men went to work not the wife. 

The cheese never needed a fridge, 

And the bread was so crusty and hot, 

The children were seldom unhappy 

And the wife was content with her lot. 

I remember the milk from the bottle, 

With the yummy cream on the top, 

Our dinner came hot from the oven, 

And not from a freezer; or shop. 

The kids were a lot more contented, 

They didn't need money for kicks, 

Just a game with their friends in the road, 

And sometimes the Saturday flicks. 

I remember the shop on the corner, 

Where cookies for pennies were sold 

Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic? 

Or is it....I'm just getting old? 

Bathing was done in a wash tub, 

With plenty of rich foamy suds 

But the ironing seemed never ending 

As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'. 

I remember the slap on my backside, 

And the taste of soap if I swore 

Anorexia and diets weren't heard of 

And we hadn't much choice what we wore. 

Do you think that bruised our ego? 

Or our initiative was destroyed? 

We ate what was put on the table 

And I think life was better enjoyed. 

Author Unknown 

If you can remember those days, 

continue to enjoy your retirement.