Check out readers' stories from their parents about the "Good Old Days."
Way back in the day, winters were colder, summers were hotter, mosquitoes were bigger, and
household responsibilities apparently began at an exceedingly tender age—at least to hear
Grandma and Grandpa tell it. To reward these readers for dutifully listening to the same hyperbolic tales
time and again, we’re sending them our new book Good Old Days, My Ass: 665 Funny History Facts
and Terrifying Truths About Yesterday
by David A. Fryxell
(see our excerpt on page 52 for a sampling of stories).
My father’s “when I was young” stories mostly came at mealtime to inspire me to realize how good I had it. His favorite one seemed to be about waiting on his parents. My grandfather came from England and my grandmother from Scotland. The custom on Sundays was for a youngster to bring them a tray with tea and toast before church. Each time Dad told the story, he got younger. Finally, during one dinner, I spoke up. “Yes, I know you toddled up the stairs in your diaper with a tray of tea and toast.”
My mother had to hide her mirth with a napkin and my father kind of blinked. I explained that I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but I noticed that he was getting younger with each telling.
Janet F. Kendall » Hamilton, NJ