A friend of mine sent me a link to this blog post yesterday: If 70s Moms Had Blogs. It’s the funniest thing I’ve read this week — and I’m reading the Autobiography of Mark Twain. Here’s a taste.
About an hour later Matt came back crying that Mrs. Johnson had spanked him because he was throwing rocks at cars.
“Good,” I told him, “I hope you learned your lesson. If I hear of you doing that again I’m going to bust your ass too, so you got lucky this time that you only got one whipping.” Then I sent him back outside while I continued to clean.
Little while later, here come the girls saying they’re hot because it’s 80 degrees and sunny. I gave them some more red Kool-Aid and told them if they were hot to stay in the shade and stop whining about it.
Read the whole thing. It’s funny. Unless you’re the humorless sort who sees something like this and feels a need to lecture everyone on the harmful effects of cigarette smoke, sun exposure and child-beating, as if you’re the only person in 2014 who realizes these things, like you’re alerting the rest of us to a scientific discovery. Maybe your own parents left you in a car too long with the windows rolled up as a child and it fried the humor right out of your head.