Despite some little twinges of guilt, I drove through McDonald's on our way home from playgroup this morning. On the way, I told E that we would be getting some Apple Dippers, which really got her excited. "You drove past it, Mommy," she said from the back seat. "You have to turn around." She was remembering last week, when I accidentally drove past Pizza Hut on the way to get her free pizza...smart girl. "No, I didn't, honey. It's right here." I pulled in the parking lot, and she asked, "Where's the barn?" "E, this is Mc'Donald's. It's a restaurant." She thought about that for a minute and asked, "Old McDonald has a restaurant?" How do you answer that?
I ordered her a Happy Meal which came with a Polly Pocket...I'm saving that for the drive out east this weekend. When we got home, she dove right into the apples...not surprising since they come with caramel dipping sauce. She didn't touch the cheeseburger, fine. But she did want to try some of my fries. I handed over a few, and a squirt of ketchup. She spent the next 20 minutes trying out different combinations...fries dipped in caramel and milk, apples dipped in ketchup. Who am I to question the culinary genius of my daughter?
I think we're going to need to come up with a Fast Food Rule...once every 3 weeks or so? Once a month? As with most things, I struggle with how to moderate the "bad" stuff. I don't feel like forbidding it altogether, because I don't want her obsessed. But I also don't want a house full of junky plastic tchachkis or caramel fries every night for dinner. By the way, the second ingredient in the chocolate milk is high fructose corn syrup. I'll tell you what, Old McDonald may have a restaurant, but he doesn't have a conscience!