I cannot tell you the number of times I have been accused of being "an innocent" and "growing up in the bubble." You be the judge.

I grew up in the 1950-60's. Dad worked, very hard, 6 days a week, and mom was a homemaker. She cooked, cleaned, washed, took care of three kids and even ironed underwear. She hummed or sang while she did everything, a sweet smile on her face. This was what she WANTED to be doing.

A typical day started with a home-made, hardy breakfast, then getting dressed and off to school. It was a long, 3-block walk, with good friends and lots of laughing and teasing. It was a small school and you knew everybody. After the 3-R's concluded, you'd race home to change from "school clothes" into play things. Half-way up the street, the SMELL would hit me. Mom baked cinnamon rolls again! The pace would hasten.

We would not use the doorbells or knock for our playmates. Instead, we'd stand at the curb and yell "Oh for Mary" and wait for Mary to yell back or her mom to say "she'll be out soon." Marbles, Red-Rover, jump roping, baseball, picking apples or cherries, roller skating on the street (with a watcher to check for the sporatic car), hide and seek or bike-riding - these filled our afternoons until the call came for dinner.

And what a wonderful time dinner was. Great food, talking about the goings-on of the day, laughing. After dinner my kid sister and I did dishes. I would quiz her on spelling words and she learned a lot! (Years later she admitted that she always spelled to herself when doing her own dishes.) My brother and dad would be next to the radio, with its red light shining. They'd always be listening to sports or "let's pretend", or "The Shadow" or such. We could play out for about an hour after dinner but must always be in by the time the street lights went on. Or else.

Then into the house, a quick bath, then time to be tucked in with a prayer, a hug and an I love you! Then a peaceful nights sleep before the circle started again.

If my daughters are reading this they will say, AHA, we told you it was a breeze growing up. But I must say, there were times when Mary was NOT home, or my mom did NOT bake, or we got yelled at soundly for staying out a bit beyond dark. That's when life got tough. But I survived.