I had a really stressful dream last night that I was trying to get breakfast at McDonald’s and for some reason, I couldn’t. Every time I pulled into the drive-through or tried to place my order, something would happen and I wouldn’t quite make it. It was really annoying, and I never ended up getting fed.
Naturally when I woke up this morning, it was all I could think about. I fended off the demons on my way to work, but then I actually left my office around 9:30 and drove 40 feet to the nearest McDonalds to buy myself a damn breakfast: sausage biscuit meal with signature square egg and hash brown plank.
Folks, it was all I dreamed of and more.
The last time I had a sausage biscuit was about three years ago. I was really hungover, and I absolutely required grease in order to not die. Usually when I need a fast food fix, I opt for Chick-Fil-A, which I consider to be the most upscale of the lowbrow breakfast joints. (Oh, but I’m totally not judging!)
I told my husband about the McDonald’s dream and he said something like, “well, we’ll probably have to take the kid there every once in a while.” I agree; it’s like a rite of passage.
After swim lessons in the summer, my mom used to take me to McDonald’s for a 6-piece McNugget and French fries. I didn’t actually know until I was older that all nuggets were not called McNuggets.
I told shmoopie -in my sanctimonious blogger voice- how there are some healthy living bloggers out there who are all, disdainfully, like, “I would never allow my child to eat at McDonalds!”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid.” (Side note: This is about as much as I can ever get out of him when I bring up the topic of sanctimonious bloggers. How could anyone not want to talk about this kind of stuff for hours on end, you ask? I don’t know either.)
Anyway, I think if you always deny your kids those guilty pleasures like horrible food or the occasional beer, or worse, try to brainwash them, they will grow up without a healthy respect for these things. And probably end up having them with their friends anyway. Plus, it’s just mean and bordering on child abuse if you don’t take your kids to McDonald’s at least once a year. Let them play in the germ-infested ball pit. Let them eat gray meat and greasy French fries. And then take them home and give them some broccoli. And a bath.