Good Food Box

When I was a lad and I went to school, My situation was strange. They had what you’d call a food exchange, And that was pretty cool. My dad’s job was good; he made a lot But he spent it all on his boat. Mom did what she could to keep us afloat, But she struggled more often than not. So all of our meals were cooked at the house With generally not that much meat. A family of five was no easy feat; Forgive if I start to grouse. One of the things that she did to cut back Was to grow alfalfa sprouts; There’s nothing quite like having grass hanging out From the food in your paper sack. Another way that my mom scrimped and saved: Carnation instant milk. To this day I’ll attest that drinks of this ilk Can bring on a naseous wave. So imagine my joy and my delight To discover the Good Food Box. It’s like getting a new pair of warm woolen socks When all your toes are in sight. If you didn’t like the lunch your brought Or didn’t have lunch that day, You were allowed to trade it all away, One item or the whole lot. So all those years, my mom grew her sprouts And spread ‘em with cream cheese, And I would get whatever I pleased And dump the alfalfa out. Ah, peanut butter and ham and cheese! Each day I ate like a king. I never told her a single thing, And could eat without jeers, at ease. To top it all off, the best of the best Was all the cartons of milk. Two or three, smooth as silk, Meant Carnation less and less. She probably wondered how I got so big Eating the food that she served. In truth I likely ate more than deserved; I ate from that trough like a pig!