Mum, apron on, stirdy
dinner ready for father’s return
kids bathed, tumbled into pyjamas,
awaiting their 20c lolly packet
rousing reception – walks through the door
cheap aftershave and cigar aroma
lingers like an old worn photograph,
yet it wasn’t like that then
twas about the white creased packet
‘How will we split up our lollies’?
The banana, which resembled the moon,
the disgusting spearmint leaf,
or the chocolate-coated licorice-centred pill.
dressed in our crisp PJs
scent of baby shampoo in the air,
busily removing the lollies from their packets.
putting them in precise order
and swapped those we didn’t like,
ensuring an equal number between us.
It was an intricate system we had going.