My son’s hunger had reached the “Threat Level Hangry” stage. Murph was so hungry he had turned angry. I had to get some food into him quickly or he’d transform into Chuckie. I snapped opened my freezer and reached for the quickest option for food: A frozen Kid Cuisine, a junior version of a TV dinner. I microwaved that sumbitch and he shoveled it down. The dessert in the Kid Cuisine was vanilla pudding and it came with a topping called “Chuck’s Rocket Ship, Earth Sprinkles and Color Changing Dust.” I watched my son devour this unholy white gelatin concoction that had been covered with a nuclear blue coating. But then I made the mistake of reading the ingredients of the vanilla pudding and sprinkles. I learned that I had just feed my son: Cellulose Gum, Carrageenan, Blue 1, Blue 2, Yellow Cake 5, Red 40, and Acetic Acid Esters of Mono and Diglycerides with Maltodextrin. Yikes.

Now, a better father and a much better man would have feed his son organic apples, free range chicken, and some sort of legume for dinner. As a modern parent, I’m bombarded with information on all the healthy meal options for my child. Organic and all-natural foods are everywhere. This is awesome. And just about the exact opposite of my childhood. I’m 37 and back in my day, we didn’t have Co-ops or Whole Foods or any of that crunchy hippie stuff. What we did have, though, was a bucket of Art Song Wong’s Chicken Wings for $5 on Tuesday nights. For crying out loud, my dad would dump saltine crackers into a huge glass of skim milk and drink it for a snack! My brother Tony tried it once and said it was like, “Drinking wet socks.” And so, in an effort to make myself feel better about my negligent parenting, here is a list of shit I ate as a kid growing up in Minneapolis:

Arthur Treatchers and Long John Silver’s – Was it fish? I don’t know. But it was battered and fried and malted. And grubbin’.

Wax Bottle Candy – Remember those tiny wax bottles that were filled with tasty candy liquid? After the liquid was sucked out, I would eat the wax bottle. It was awesome.

The Pop Shoppe – This “pick your own soda” place near the Southdale Mall was a bonanza of artificial drinks. Customers would pick from a litany of flavors and fill an entire rack to take home.

Zantigo’s Mexican restaurant – Two words: Cheese. Chilito. This goopy cheese and meat combo may have looked like diarrhea smeared into a tortilla shell but it was a Smith family highlight.

Scott Ja’Mama’s BBQ – For an after school snack, my sister and I would eat twice baked potatoes that were chock full of bacon and cheese from the legendary hole-in-the-wall BBQ restaurant just off of Nicollet Avenue.

Art Song’s Chicken Wings – MSG never tasted better.

Homemade snow cones – During the 80s, my dad worked at a Twin Cities hospital and discovered a special ice machine that dispensed tiny ice shavings. Big Smitty (that’s what we called him) bought several ginormous bottles of snow cone flavor (with the pumper), filled coolers full of the shaved ice, and brought the whole works home for all kids in the neighborhood. We literally made our own snow cones all day for an entire summer. The neon red cherry dye is still coursing through my veins. (Note: My dad rocks.)

Ponderosa Steak House –This ruby brick walled steak house in Bloomington served up a grade of beef that would be listed as “low grade dog food” in today’s hyper alert culinary world.

Little Caesar’s Pizza – Our favorite was the cheese burger pizza and it came in butcher paper sleeves. Also, the bread sticks could stop a horse’s heart with all the fat and butter dripping off of them. But when dipped in marinara sauce, they were the bomb.

The Fry Daddy – My mom had a deep fryer in our kitchen. (My mom rocks.)

Pixie Sticks – My buddy Gumbo and I would snort lines of blue raspberry Pixie sticks. Shit you not.

As I remembered all of this, I didn’t feel so bad about the Kid Cuisine. I looked down at my son’s gleaming face and recognized the same undiluted look of pure joy that I wore for my entire childhood.

“Is it good?” I asked Murphy as he shoveled another heaping spoonful of vanilla pudding with the scary blue sprinkles on it.

“Yum,” he said, through a mouthful of Maltodextrin.