when I was a child
The things that we ate and we did
I remember helping my parents
And the wonderful things that they said
Dad was always off working
Fighting hard to earn us a crust
And Mum was left home with the children
Doing the things that she must
Keeping the house in good order
And keeping us clothed and well fed
Using stale bread for bread pudding
And tucking us safely in bed
On Sundays we had a roast dinner
With mostly potatoes and veg
With a small piece of meat to complete it
And Yorkshire pud cut in a wedge
When finished if we were still hungry
There would always be something at hand
Normally more Yorkshire pudding
With syrup or homemade strawberry jam
We’d toast our bread on a fork
In front of the black iron range
Where we’d also boil a kettle
Just normal for us never strange
The bread was homemade and was crusty
Still warm we’d slice it ourself
And each day we’d take cod liver oil
It’s supposed to be good for our health
Fridges and freezers weren’t heard of
Behind the kitchen was a scullery
Where we hung fresh killed chickens and rabbits
And the milk for our porridge and tea
Meals were never pre-made in a packet
And fast food didn’t exist
Most things were made in our kitchen
And were eaten, we wouldn’t resist.
We all had to help with the chores
To earn money for toys and for sweets
Or perhaps for Saturday pictures
Or a day out to give us treat
We’d go to the park to play football
With our families and all of our mates
We’d go home when the street lights were turned on
Because that’s when they locked the park gates
There was always a shop on the corner
Where we’d often get sent with a note
The shop keepers always knew us
And they’d chat or tell us a joke
We always called them by their first name
It was friendly not considered rude
They’d pick up a brown paper bag
And they’d fill it with all of our food
They’d have everything you could wish for
Broken biscuits, lollies and sweets
Lemonade, paraffin and kindling
And with a slicer they’d cut up your meat
The food was never deemed dangerous
There were no markings or sell by dates
We knew when things had gone off
By what we now call a smell by date
I remember the outside toilet
In the winter was frozen with ice
And having to go in the night time
Was scary and not very nice
I’d always leave the door open
So I could run back in when scared
And I remember the toilet paper
Cut up and hanging squares
When we hung our clothes out in the winter
They were unpegged as stiff as board
We laughed when they stood in the kitchen
Mum would iron them as soon as they thawed
The washing was done in a sink
Our dryer was just an old mangle
I’d help pass it through the old rollers
As Mum turned the big metal handle
If I misbehaved my parents would slap me
Not too hard and not on my face
But on arm, hand, leg or my backside
The next day there would be no trace
If I used bad language I was punished
My mouth would be washed out with soap
I remember playing on sledges
Sliding down on all the steep slopes
I remember not caring for fashion
We wore just what we were told
Sometimes if lucky they were new ones
Normally hand me downs or just old
I remember helping in the garden
With veggies and planting of flowers
Or sometimes just playing with mud pies
Keeping me busy for hours
Now those days gone I am older
My mental state still in tact
My life is still not a bad one
I think it’s quite good in fact
My childhood scars have all healed now
And I’m glad that I lived in that time
I hope that you all have great memories
And hope they’re as good as all mine.
The things that we ate and we did
I remember helping my parents
And the wonderful things that they said
Dad was always off working
Fighting hard to earn us a crust
And Mum was left home with the children
Doing the things that she must
Keeping the house in good order
And keeping us clothed and well fed
Using stale bread for bread pudding
And tucking us safely in bed
On Sundays we had a roast dinner
With mostly potatoes and veg
With a small piece of meat to complete it
And Yorkshire pud cut in a wedge
When finished if we were still hungry
There would always be something at hand
Normally more Yorkshire pudding
With syrup or homemade strawberry jam
We’d toast our bread on a fork
In front of the black iron range
Where we’d also boil a kettle
Just normal for us never strange
The bread was homemade and was crusty
Still warm we’d slice it ourself
And each day we’d take cod liver oil
It’s supposed to be good for our health
Fridges and freezers weren’t heard of
Behind the kitchen was a scullery
Where we hung fresh killed chickens and rabbits
And the milk for our porridge and tea
Meals were never pre-made in a packet
And fast food didn’t exist
Most things were made in our kitchen
And were eaten, we wouldn’t resist.
We all had to help with the chores
To earn money for toys and for sweets
Or perhaps for Saturday pictures
Or a day out to give us treat
We’d go to the park to play football
With our families and all of our mates
We’d go home when the street lights were turned on
Because that’s when they locked the park gates
There was always a shop on the corner
Where we’d often get sent with a note
The shop keepers always knew us
And they’d chat or tell us a joke
We always called them by their first name
It was friendly not considered rude
They’d pick up a brown paper bag
And they’d fill it with all of our food
They’d have everything you could wish for
Broken biscuits, lollies and sweets
Lemonade, paraffin and kindling
And with a slicer they’d cut up your meat
The food was never deemed dangerous
There were no markings or sell by dates
We knew when things had gone off
By what we now call a smell by date
I remember the outside toilet
In the winter was frozen with ice
And having to go in the night time
Was scary and not very nice
I’d always leave the door open
So I could run back in when scared
And I remember the toilet paper
Cut up and hanging squares
When we hung our clothes out in the winter
They were unpegged as stiff as board
We laughed when they stood in the kitchen
Mum would iron them as soon as they thawed
The washing was done in a sink
Our dryer was just an old mangle
I’d help pass it through the old rollers
As Mum turned the big metal handle
If I misbehaved my parents would slap me
Not too hard and not on my face
But on arm, hand, leg or my backside
The next day there would be no trace
If I used bad language I was punished
My mouth would be washed out with soap
I remember playing on sledges
Sliding down on all the steep slopes
I remember not caring for fashion
We wore just what we were told
Sometimes if lucky they were new ones
Normally hand me downs or just old
I remember helping in the garden
With veggies and planting of flowers
Or sometimes just playing with mud pies
Keeping me busy for hours
Now those days gone I am older
My mental state still in tact
My life is still not a bad one
I think it’s quite good in fact
My childhood scars have all healed now
And I’m glad that I lived in that time
I hope that you all have great memories
And hope they’re as good as all mine.
