would you like fries with that?
Welcome to the Weekly Friday Guest Spotlight
Tonight’s guest is writer, Dionne Lister. Click her picture for more about Dionne, or click here to buy her new book, Shadows of the Realm.
When A Trip to Mcdonalds Turns into the Twilight Zone
Hi everyone. I know I’m not Erica, but bare with me. I’d like to start by saying thank you to Erica for inviting me to do a guest post on her blog – so thanks!
In keeping with this entertaining blog I’m going to attempt to be funny, well at least slightly amusing. My story today focuses on an exciting trip to McDonalds.
Two years ago, whilst accompanying my husband to a sailing regatta (think wife amusing kids all day while husband sails and has fun) I decided to take my then two and three year old boys to McDonalds. I tend to stay away from fast food and rarely have the courage to take the kids out in public, because let’s face it small children are unpredictable and scary.
So, fighting my natural instincts, I pulled into the local McDonalds. My eldest was able to unstrap himself from his harness so I warned him not to open his door. Predictably, yes I know I said they were unpredictable but in some things I am psychic, he opened the door anyway. I was so happy (not) to see he had hit the car next to us, leaving a small dent. As I wrote a note to stick on the other car, I growled low in my throat. We hadn’t even gone in and already my day was plummeting towards crapsville (a place I visit all too often).
After placing the note under their windscreen wiper I managed to maneuver the kids into McDonalds without further incident. I actually ordered food and made it to the table unscathed, until…
Mr 3yo (henceforth referred to as Kid 1) wanted to drink his orange juice and walk at the same time. I said ‘No’, he ignored me. Predictably, the cup slid out of his hands and landed on the floor. It’s amazing how liquid seems to expand when it makes contact with the floor, turning a cup’s worth into a bucket load. The explosion threw juice within a five metre radius. Any parent reading this will know how it feels to be stared at by a room full of strangers like you are dog poo that just squished onto their shoe.
“Don’t move!” Was my instruction to Kids 1 and 2 before I went to get a staff member to clean it up. Kid 1, practicing to be a man no doubt and employing ‘male selective deafness’ gets off his chair and walks into the danger zone. Making sure he made the most of the spillage, he slipped and fell. Kid 1 starts crying at this point because hey, enough people weren’t already looking at me with that you-are-the-worst-parent-ever-to-come-into-McDonalds look, and that’s pretty degrading when you consider some of the people you’ve seen at McDonalds. I had officially reached a new subfloor level in my life.
I was fighting back the screams, and the tears, by this stage. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse (and I have a warning for those of you contemplating parenthood, it can always get worse) I smelt a familiar smell. I looked over at kid 2.
I warily, and wearily, approached my nappy-wearing progeny to discover that not only had he pooed his nappy, but it had leaked out the legs and onto his clothes. At this stage I wondered if anyone would notice if I just slipped outside, leaving them there, and never came back. Choking back vomit because I am not immune to the smell of my own child’s poo, I dragged them both into the toilets.
After cleaning them up as best I could we hurried out of there, never to return. I am glad I don’t live there and no one would have recognised me. I have a new appreciation for tortured parents who brave public places with their little people. When my husband finished sailing and asked me how my day went, I laughed, handed him the kids, and walked away.
Thank you for visiting tonight, Dionne. Your post brought back so many memories of taking the kids to McDonalds.
Speaking of battling dragons…I have PMS again. And what’s up with that anyway? Does it really have to come once a month? Really? Yeah, I need wine and chocolate, and not necessarily in that order.
Until the next time…I’ll be digging through boxes for chocolate.