The milk bottles were all cold
and sweaty
nested in their wire basket
outside the front door.
Funny, how it seemed perfectly
normal
that milk appeared without asking
whenever I wanted more.
*Danny and I used to try and get treats like chocolate milk and fruit-at-the-bottom yogurt added to the weekly milk delivery by leaving our milkman notes in our mom’s forged handwriting. I had no thought in my head that we were paying for his services. It just seemed awfully nice of him to get up so early in the morning before anyone else was awake and make his rounds in his refrigerated white milk truck and crisp white uniform.
When mama got the bill - that was the end of ‘specialty’ orders.
~ from 'Station Wagon Wars' ~ growing up in the 60's by cTanner
