I know. We’re all supposed to hate McDonalds. My book club (not me, I was in the middle of “Jane Eyre” and I forgot all about it) just finished discussing “Fast Food Nation” and I TiVo’d “Super Size Me” (although I didn’t watch it before it was kicked off by 35 hours of “Dora”, “The Backyardigans” and “Sesame Street”). Plus, I’m one of those people that is constantly unhappy with my weight. AND I have two year olds that don’t really need fast food. It’s not like we’re on the run a lot.
But I’m lazy, and about twice a month, usually on our way back from playgroup (it ends around noon, and if we don’t have it here it can take us up to 45 minutes to get home – if there aren’t any accidents on the beltway) I’ll stop at McDonalds and grab some happy meals.
Love – I love happy meals. I love it that they get a stupid toy that keeps them busy for hours. Apparently this week there is a “Pirates of the Caribbean” theme. My pirate obsessed children have been digging the treasure chest and the skull for about two hours now.
Hate – For some reason Ian is convinced that in order for him to open the treasure chest with the key, I have to hold it. It’s a good thing I can type with one hand. I’ve sunken to the level of letting them watch “Wonder Pets!” so I don’t have to hear “Mommy do it” one more time, at least for 15 minutes.
Love – Oh. Sweet. Jesus. I know you all told me, but I didn’t believe you when you all told me how good the parfaits were.
Hate/Love – When the kids don’t eat their french fries, I do. They are delicious, but once I’ve eaten Claudia’s cheeseburger and both happy meals full of fries, I may have just as well never ordered the parfait in the first place.