Lately, I’ve got no tolerance for this expression:
“In my day…”
I hear it all the time from women whose babies flew the coop 30 years ago.
I’ll give you three (very true) recent examples:
“We’ve gone overboard on safety. In my day we didn’t have car seats.”
[Seriously. You’re going to argue that car seats have crossed the line? This one came from my Oma, by the way. After making this statement she told me a story about how my father’s head once went through her windshield when she pegged her breaks at an intersection. She was not being sarcastic.]
“In my day we smoked cigarettes so our babies would have lower birth weights.”
[I had no idea how to respond to this. She was being 100 percent serious.]
“In my day women didn’t work when they had babies.”
This last one really chapped my ass, not just because her tone was judgmental, but because when I replied, “Some families need two incomes,” she replied, “In my day we knew how to save money.”
Well guess what Ethel? It’s MY DAY. And in my day we make money so YOU can collect Social Security.