Life Was So Much Simpler When We Were Kids!
By Lisa Nolan on February 05, 2013
My life as a child was simple. A slinky on the back stairs kept me entertained for 30 minutes, enough time for my mom to prepare cup-a-soup and white-bread toast for lunch with lime jello for dessert. Then it was off to the schoolyard to play with empty milk cartons by filling them with water from the leaky drinking fountain and chasing unsuspecting seagulls. Then I soaked my friends and they soaked me and nobody cared that we would 'catch our death of cold'. Now-a-days kids can't even get their sleeves wet!
On Saturdays I made myself a glass of Ovaltine and watched Saturday morning cartoons (offered on maybe two TV channels!) while my mom slept in. When she woke up she cooked oatmeal in a pot, the kind that stuck to your ribs, with plenty of milk and white sugar.
Believe it or not my mom was a health nut (I know, I know, how could THAT be?!). She gave me a chewable vitamin and a small glass of juice made from a can out of the freezer. There was no soy milk, gluten-free pancakes, or Greek yogurt in those days. Grocery shopping was a breeze, which was great because I did most of the shopping.
Then it was time for some housekeeping. She worked full time so I did all of the cleaning while she rested on the couch. She wasn't super woman. Super Woman was tall and buxom with long brunette hair and special powers (as seen on TV). And she wore a gold and red and blue costume that was one size too small.
If I wanted to listen to music I turned on the radio or played an album on my record player and In high school I kept a Walkman in my backpack, then snuck the headphones on while sitting in the back of French class because who needed to learn a second language any way. When I took pictures with a camera, I then placed the film in a black canister and stuffed it in a big, yellow and white envelope and waited ten days for my amateur-looking photos to return so I could proudly place them in a photo album with sticky-backed pages.
Dinner was easy. It came in a bucket or a Chinese-decorated carton, steaming hot with loads of sodium and fats and oils. Kids were not overweight (or very few): we were too busy playing with slinkies and dancing to record albums, cleaning house and pretending to be Super Woman, taking crappy pictures and chasing seagulls with milk cartons.
Ah, to be a kid again!