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Dad and I a Nutritionist's Nightmare

Story ID:8236
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Poem
Location:Corona CA USA
Person:Cooking Chelsea Kansas Kid
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Dad and I a Nutritionist’s Nightmare

The housekeeping and cooking
Was left up to me
After the death of
Mom and my brother, Leslie.

I learned how to make a fire
In that old iron cook stove
How to mop the linoleum
Clean the cobwebs from above.

The only veggies we ate
Were in a can of “Dinty Moore’s stew”
Wheat bread and milk
Was the diet for us two

Bread and milk
Fried eggs for every meal
In the winter or summer
To us no big deal.

Dad never griped once
About my cooking expertise
Never out of bread and milk
Sometimes ran short on “Wheaties”

Tried frying pork chops
Fire not so hot
Ate those pork chops
Never gave it a thought,

That we might get Trichinosis
And get sick as a dog
Relished that meaty taste
After supper slept like a log

After school I’d stop at I. E. Parks
On our charging sheet
I’d charge two loaves of brown bread
Half a pound of Bologna for meat.

Milked the cows
Separated the milk for the cream
I did the cooking
Nutrition just a dream

If a nutritionist did a study
On Dad and I
She would have thrown up her hands
And said we would die.

That was when I was fifteen
Now I’m 85
According to Nutritionist’s and Dietitians’
I shouldn’t be alive,

You should have a proper diet
Our meals were no fun
We made it for three years
Then came stepmother number one.

Stepmother number one
Her name was Mary Bland
She baked pies, cakes and made candy
I thought I’d gone to the Promised Land.

She was a great cook
Dad and I gained some weight
One day she said “I’m gone”
Back to cooking was my fate.

Oh Well
Monte L. Manka 8-12-2012