I occasionally wonder if my hate affair with milk goes back to my primary school days in the early-mid 1980s.
Every morning, at about 11, right before playtime, we’d line
up outside the caretakers office and wait for our milky rations.
It would be brought in in big crates by two middle-aged ladies
- I guess you’d call them ‘teaching assistants’ these days – called Mrs Lovett
and Mrs Sexton, which was, naturally, a source of great amusement to primary school boys.
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| 1925 - 2013 |
(Yep, in those nostalgic, milky days we still had proper milkmen doing the rounds, my father worked in some capacity or other for the Milk Marketing Board at some point, and there were TV ads for the stuff - 'Gotta Lotta Bottle' and 'Nice Cold Ice Cold Milk'.)
We were also given a weedy little blue straw – two if we
were lucky – and we’d puncture the foil cap and drain the milk before heading out
into the playground to climb frames and play ‘it’.
UNTIL THATCHER, THE EVIL MILK-SNATCHER CAME ALONG AND TOOK
IT AWAY FROM US - CAUSING US TO GROW UP WEAK SO WE COULDN'T RISE UP AND FIGHT AGAINST HER HEINOUS REGIME!!!1littlebitofpoliticsthere11one1
...Of course, it didn’t actually happen like that at all, though some would have it thus and have predictably been banging on about it this week.
