Food ads aimed at busy mothers from 1980 and 1985
More crap to feed your kids when they're tired of TV dinners.
What's for breakfast, Mom?
Shrunken dolls' heads in milk.
(1985. I was surprised to find the Ralston brand was still around at this time.)
What's for lunch, Mom?
Poor quality chopped bits of animal flesh on a bun with a slice of an oil-based plastic-like substance.
(When my son was about 3, he started calling American cheese "plastic cheese." He really thought it was made of plastic!)
(1980)
What's for dinner, Mom?
You know that raincoat you're wearing? Well, pretty much that in pasta form.
(1980. I kinda miss satchels. Now all the kids have is backpacks.)
Can I have dessert?
Of course! Here's some brown paste processed into a creamy smoothness not found in nature.
(1980)
Mom, I don't feel so good!
Probably because you haven't eaten a single nutritious thing all day. Here's something to make me feel like I have adequately compensated for your nutritional deficiencies:
(1985)
One more question, Mom.
Yes, dear?
Would you PLEASE let Dad cook tomorrow?
I think all of these came from Working Mother magazine.
What's for breakfast, Mom?
Shrunken dolls' heads in milk.
(1985. I was surprised to find the Ralston brand was still around at this time.)
What's for lunch, Mom?
Poor quality chopped bits of animal flesh on a bun with a slice of an oil-based plastic-like substance.
(When my son was about 3, he started calling American cheese "plastic cheese." He really thought it was made of plastic!)
(1980)
What's for dinner, Mom?
You know that raincoat you're wearing? Well, pretty much that in pasta form.
(1980. I kinda miss satchels. Now all the kids have is backpacks.)
Can I have dessert?
Of course! Here's some brown paste processed into a creamy smoothness not found in nature.
(1980)
Mom, I don't feel so good!
Probably because you haven't eaten a single nutritious thing all day. Here's something to make me feel like I have adequately compensated for your nutritional deficiencies:
(1985)
One more question, Mom.
Yes, dear?
Would you PLEASE let Dad cook tomorrow?
I think all of these came from Working Mother magazine.