It Wasn’t Like That In My Day!

After I’d prepared the four different meals required for dinner for my family of four last week, my 7-year-old daughter asked me what I used to eat for tea when I was a kid.  I thought about it for a while and told her about spam fritters accompanied by mashed potatoes and canned processed peas; a single meal prepared for our family of four and eaten without argument or protest. No one would dare!  I might also add that my mum referred to spam as “dead man’s arm” without irony or implied deterrent.

Thinking about the olden days is not a new thing, but it did kick off a train of thoughtful nostalgia about how different my childhood was, growing up in the late 70s.  I mean, I know my mum and dad used to refer to working down a pit and getting an orange and lump of coal for Christmas presents, but the ways I’m now providing for my offspring are equally well spaced.  Here are some examples:

RECREATION

Growing up in the 70s, if I dared to complain of boredom to my mum, she would either tell me to go play on the motorway or give me a housework task.  Refusal to partake would simply be proof I was not actually bored.  There would be one week in the summer holidays where we’d be treated to a zoo trip or a day or two at the seaside, but mostly, fun was neither omnipresent nor provided on a perennial loop.

Whilst it’s probably the monster I’ve created, my kids seem to get my childhood “best day out” on alternate days of their lives.  An average play date today will include several different craft stations for the kids, healthy snack provision and maybe an educational movie (OK and wine).  The word play date did not exist in my childhood.  I’d just go round next doors and maybe dangle from their washing line with Anne and Alan.  My mum didn’t even attend.   Soft play for me was just a game where no one got a dead arm or a Chinese burn.

SAFETY

OK, even now I confess to not really getting hand sanitiser, but I use it to look good and if someone is watching.  But back then, I think I’d be told to wash my hands if they had week old ground in mud on them or I’d had light exposure to asbestos.  Did we require helmets for cycling?  Nope, we were just pulling epic wheelies, seeing how many kids you could get on a Chopper (8) and basically being – well, dangerous.  But whilst I have a small scar above my left eye from stacking it against a wall, I did, as this article proves, survive.

Sometimes when my mum told me to go play on the motorway, we pretty much did.  I remember climbing over barbed wire in the local rec, running around herds of cows with horns (bulls I guess), playing “kerbie” vs cars or roller-skating helmet free on significant local roadways.  To be fair, we would never consider taking sweets from strangers and the Tuftie club was pretty effective instruction for road crossing nous.

FOOD

I don’t think, in general, food was that unhealthy; I just think maybe literally everything was canned.  Most veg and fruit were, a considerable amount of meat was, soup was and there was the ravioli, kippers and pies!

Spam fritters* were almost considered a staple food.

Most of my meals seemed to be meat and two veg based, with one veg being mashed potato (mostly from actual potatoes to be fair, but sometimes Smash because I liked the Martian advert).  When I got older, Mum edged directionally towards the exotic, that being pizza and many years later lasagne, but that was it.  Even pasta didn’t seem to exist – aside from canned spaghetti, which I’ll admit doesn’t feel like it deserves to be called pasta in real terms.

Vegetarians were basically the one family from school who didn’t have telly. Gluten and lactose weren’t even words and no one was allergic to anything, or at least they were blissfully unaware of it.

GETTING THINGS

Again, this is a monster I’ve created and am very conscious of it, but if one of my children asks me for something it’s rare they do not take possession of the requested item within 10 working days.  Getting things was something that happened at Christmas and birthdays or during periods of extended hospitalisation, which, surprisingly based on the content of this article were actually non-existent.  But hey, I guess on those occasions, the yield was significantly better than coal and a Satsuma.

Anyway, as I move on through life and wonder what sort of super bubble my grandchildren may exist in, I’m more convinced that none of it matters that much.  I’m putting my money on love, cuddles and a little dose of luck.

*I am now vegetarian and I don’t underestimate the role spam fritters played in this life style choice.