Ah, those were the days...

 

Tupperware is going into bankruptcy.

Or at least they are closing their doors.

No more burpable plasticware!

There was a time when things

Were done differently,

Such as deliveries to your door

They told the places. 

When the pandemic they had 

To restart deliveries for all services

Now they want an arm and leg

After all that free stuff

They even include a tip into my bill!

In the old days they used things

Such as morphine and heroin

In hospitals and for certain types

Of patients, those prescriptions 

Were like gold.

I know I had one of them.

Every time I passed through Europe.

I got my purse or backpack stolen.

Or concussed and even Mickeyed

All for that prescription

I am allergic to just about everything.

And heroin is not one of my favorites.

I tend to stand over a sink

And vomit or attempt to 

Just cant stand the stuff

But there were pharmacies. 

Who would fill the prescription?

And deliver it by motorcycle!

Those were the days 

When the president's whereabouts

Were kept closely guarded. 

And never allowed to wander. 

On a public street for a citizen

To hand in to the very people

Responsible for their safety

The police!

Irish do have their own ways 

Of doing things.

But really, it is not a simple matter

To have him in a new country

Among those who are not happy

With the peace accord.

All I want is a pain killer

That is not addictive nor

On the "streets" list of plus

When I was little 

There was a story

About something that went wrong

And Jimmy always sits there 

And smiles his way through. 

It every time it is mentioned.

He wasn't there nor does he know.

What really went on.

My mother just has to know.

Everything little detail

She got it in her head 

That she worked or was related

To the President himself

She had to have his daily 

Brief before he got his hands on it

So she could sit there and discuss it with him.

There are times I just want her 

To shut up!

Or at least not go on about 

Her expertise which she does not have

Like the broccoli incident

She got it into her head 

That I had to eat broccoli

I like vegetables.

But who can swallow such a thing

As it is, I have a sensitive

Esophagus, and can't breathe well

Enough to swallow it as well 

As the doctors discovering it

Was not good for me.

I am allergic to one of its properties.

While my mother has screamed at me

About potatoes including sweet potatoes

Who are not related at all.

She would make one sit all night

If you did not finish your supper

Then she would punish the other

Children as well if one sat there

All night without giving in.

My mother was not the best cook.

Anyways she made a deal

If I ate the spinach instead

She would not force me to eat 

The offending item that the doctor

Had spent his entire lunch hour

Explaining to her was never to be 

On my menu again.

She would not budge

She started the fight

Then she lied about it

Then she snuck in at night

And force feed me the broccoli

After I ate everyone else's Spinach!

I ended up in the hospital again

And they sent her to the mental ward.

Then she came home and did it again.

This time they arrested her.

My family of course ended up

Suffering the consequences of the law

Any time after that if she got angry

The social services would come in

And separate us until there was no

Family unit left nor a father who could

Function properly.

All because she wanted to make

Me do something I did not want to do.

What if it had been strawberries?

Anyway, there was a day

When one of the secretaries 

Got one of those phone calls

In the middle of providing

Those secret details 

And the top sheet of the daily 

Got misplaced in the sudden shuffle

There was a hue and cry for it

All over the White House

No one could find it at all

Grandpa was running around

Doing his wwii veteran stuff

I got passed off at some point

He ended up with a bundle of bagels

Or something from the bakery

I got a very surprised young man

With glasses like my father

Who immediately set me down

Not knowing to do that.

I was small but an early explorer

Crawling was my thing 

Like Pebbles I was off like a shot

Nothing was going to keep me back

How was I to know I had been transferred

Into the West wing by a chance encounter?

Really, I could barely gurgle

At some point i was found at the feet

Of the great man himself

He was accustomed to babies

At first he did not bother with me

Like too many kittens he was too busy

Then snag, my little jacket got caught

Not my diaper!

I was stuck and a small wale 

Came out of my tiny body.

There finally the President 

Bent down to find that his son

Had long eyelashes!

Whose baby is this?

Not his own child 

And there stuck to her back

Was a piece of paper

He carefully pulled it off

The missing daily had been found

I could not even read much less speak

I was given a pardon by the man

Then my mother showed up

She wanted me interrogated

All because she was sure 

I had seen the paper 

And could provide her with the information!

Those were the days of innocence

Some poor guy who delivered drugs

Found out he had to go all the way

To Mexico to a family 

Who were never in the same house.

I don't mind riced cauliflower

I even eat cauliflower pizza crust

Which all the modern pizza joints 

Are offering to thier patrons.

Glutton free used to be automatic.

In Europe it is called old fashioned

The bread was not all just white

But various grains and cereals

Then something happened to the minds

Of everyone who wanted just white.

I still say I had a good grandpa

With a spoiled daughter

And a father who was very long suffering....