I Used to Walk to School Uphill Both Ways (And It Was Fun)

I have a feeling I’m going to get a lot of shit for this one, but I’m prepared. It’s about longing for the days of old, when we didn’t know what “GMO,” pink slime, or gluten meant, or that white bread causes cancer. Yes, I long to be ignorant, as ignorance is bliss. I heard that once. I know all you Whole Foods shoppers will be driving down my street, all sneaky-like in your oh-so-quiet Priuses, waiting for the perfect moment to egg my house with your cage-free eggs.

It’s just that being a mom is, in a word, exhausting. Exhausting, people! It’s hard enough to go grocery shopping with two little dickheads fighting over who gets to steer the cart but then I’ve got to agonize over every single thing I buy. Gluten Free? Organic? Dye-free? Non-GMO? Cruelty-free? I’ll tell you what’s cruel — having to make dinner in this day and age!

I’ll go ahead and say it, and I know it sounds cliche, but I long for the good old days. ‘Member TV dinners? Awww, hell yeah! Greasy, gritty potatoes that burned your tongue. Petrified carrots that burned your tongue. Unidentifiable dessert that burned your tongue for at least a week.

“Mom, what’s for dinner?”

“HungryMans around the horn.”


Our kids will never know the goodness that is a peanut butter and fluff sandwich on white bread. Now we’ve gotta do multi-grain. Have you ever had a piece of multi-grain bread that tasted good? Yeah, me neither. “Hey, guys, you’ve gotta try this kale and alfalfa sammy on multi-grain. It’s the BOMB,” said no one ever.

As long as I’m griping, anyone remember seat belts? No? That’s because we didn’t fucking wear them! We drove around and longed for a nice, tight curve so you could roll across the car and punch your brother in the face and call it an accident. Yeah, yeah, I know they save lives and all that but those were good times. It now takes me 10 to 15 minutes just to get my kids in the car and by the time I’ve pulled 17 muscles getting them strapped in and sweat out last night’s bottle of wine, I’ve forgotten where I’m going.

Here’s one that I just love — ‘member when you’d get your buzz on in utero because no one told our parents to get on the wagon for nine months? My mom told her doctor that the whiskey sours were giving her heart burn, and he told her to switch to beer. I’ve considered ordering a glass of wine in a restaurant late in the pregnancy but I’m afraid of the backlash I’ll be getting from Judy Judgmental glaring at me in the corner. “Hey lady, mind your own shitty life! Yeah, and that is unpasteurized cheese and shellfish. Squeeeeee!”

And remember when you saw a little guy walking home from school by himself and didn’t get a pit of absolute doom in your tummy so you feel like you have to stalk little guy from the car and make sure Petey Pedophile doesn’t snatch him up from the bushes? Yeah, that.

Oh yeah, remember life before everyone became a graphic designer before sending out a birthday invitation? You’d send out a piece of paper with Spiderman on it, fill in the date and time of party, and call it a day. Good Lord, in five years we’ll be sending that shit via holograms.

grandma techology

Listen — I don’t want to feed my kids genetically modified food or other crap that’s bad for them. I don’t want to put them in harm’s way or let them fry their brain from hours of Spongebob Squarepants. But can’t we occasionally put the blinders on, pour our kids a big bowl of Captain Crunch with white bread croutons, and live like we used to? Hey, it was good enough for us.

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  1. Shannon5757 says:

    Amen, sister! I long for the days when Moms could feed their kids Kraft Mac ‘N Cheese and hot dogs for lunch everyday and then send them outside to play (unsupervised) all day until the street lights came on. Now I can’t crack open a box of Kraft without having a small anxiety attack, knowing it’s chalked full of red dye #40 and yellow dye #5 and #6, nor can I let my kid outside to play unless I’m out there with him, knowing “Petey Pedophile” is just waiting for his opportunity to snatch up little Tommy.

    It’s a scary fucking world out there, people…. No wonder most of us have drinking problems.

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