Poor Grandmama was scrubbed and dressed
In her uncomfy Sunday best
And led to grim and stuffy church
Where on a chilly pew she'll perch
While a priest assails her ears
For hours that seem much more like years.
But that was Sunday, 1910,
And everything's improved since then.
These days the family spend all
Of every Sunday at the Mall
And if Jake has a family bag
Of crisps he won't moan it's a drag.
Bored desperation fills his eyes,
But if they stock him up with fries
His mum can find some bargain dresses.
And so the human race progresses.
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