Memories of Mom: The ‘Orange Monsters’

As a kid growing up in the 1950s, I spent the most of my playtime outside.

I did my duty to boyhood too. After a long day of work — no adult could call such heavy exercise as play — I consistently came home bruised, cut and scraped. This, along with torn clothes, was what I did best.

When I stepped in the back door — I wasn’t allowed to come in the front — there was Mom. I could always tell instantly by the look on her face what degree of trouble I was in. I tried excuses, but I wasn’t very good at them. I was seldom punished or scolded. That would have been better.

Mom had something far more scary.

See, she was the family’s medical practitioner. My bruises and scrapes were her target. I could have had one arm hanging by a narrow strap of skin and I would have told Mom that I was totally fine.

Mom had the “orange monsters:” Merthiolate and Mercurochrome. These two evil antiseptics put fear in the heart of even the bravest of them all — my dad. Pain inflicted by these two “cures” caused a vicious stinging that dwarfed any injury. Of course, Mom knew.

She always held me close as I tried not to cry until the pain subsided and I could return to normal: bruising and scraping myself.

Mom said at the time she really hurt terribly inside when she applied the “orange monsters” and when she heard about Bactine she was one of the first in line to purchase it.

I wonder if Mom would have bought gummy vitamins?

Read more stories in the “Memories of Mom” series here.