I remember the corned beef 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 so was 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 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
