In the 1970s, you’d see a mother in the kitchen. Since then, the latchkey kids wait for her to come home from work.
We used to have milk deliveries up until about 1975. We had a big family so the milk-man would com twice a week. The local dairy even gave us a small, open-top refrigerator for the milk
He would park his truck at the end of the driveway, and we could hear him whistling as he walked to the door. He would walk right into the kitchen without knocking, while we kids were eating breakfast. He would say hello to everyone, unload the milk, and walk out again.
We kids didn’t find it strange at all
The most important thing in our mid-fifties kitchen was Mitzi, a wonderful cook and housekeeper who had escaped Austria and Hitler.
My mom was very pretty and charming but couldn’t scramble an egg.