A Midcentury Memory

I can still feel my finger slide across the chilled glass panes of our kitchen window. The simmering warmth of my grandmother’s stew against the freeze of a cold winter’s morning, gave birth to a fun filled coating of "dew". I can hear her melodious chide as I continued drawing stickmen in the steam against her wishes. Such was a typical morning of my youth. The "bouquet" of Ajax cleanser would descend as I watched an old Shirley Temple movie, redeeming the shrill notes of the scrub brush in the tub, a sure sign that it was Saturday. Though the dwindling mound of laundry announced that we’d soon be off to market, I still hoped for a reprieve. Alas, no time for Mighty Mouse!