Well. I'm babysitting two of my nine favorite cousins this week, and McDonald's was on our itinerary. Rather than trying to trick Kallie out of wanting to go at all (yeah--prolly impossible), I decided we could just get it over with. So when she said she wanted to go on the first full day I was 'sitting, I agreed. The building was actually ok-- not as ghetto or nasty as many are. Kallie ordered for herself and I ordered for Kamden. We got their food and went over to fill the drinks. I had it in my mind to choose root beer for Kamden's drink and to share it with him, since Barq's root beer is obviously not made by McDonald's and I apparently wasn't eating dinner (I couldn't bring myself to order anything for myself). We sat down and I neatly arranged Kamden's nuggets and fries and opened his ranch, trying the entire time to not think about all the terrible stories and nasty images that I associate with McD's. I felt guilty letting the children eat it. Ew. After we were settled in for them to eat, I reached for Kamden's cup with the intention of partaking of the goodness that is Barq's. I couldn't do it. The cup didn't even make it halfway to my mouth. I just couldn't do it... not with that stupid clown on the cup staring at me. And another one sitting on a ski lift above our heads. And two more on their Happy Meal bags and another... and another... and another... they're everywhere! I forced myself to help Kamden finish his dinner then permitted the kids to play on the play place thing. I whipped out my hand sanitizer. (The restaurant was, of course, out of theirs. I've learned to be prepared, though.) I then put in my earphones and hunched over my sketchbook, drawing and trying to pretend I was anywhere but McDonald's. Needless to say, I survived and am now able to safely look forward to the rest of the week. :)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
that time I barely made it out alive
When I was thirteen, Grandma and Grandpa Coombs flew me up to Utah to visit them for my birthday present. They picked me up from the airport, and we stopped at a McDonald's for lunch on the way home. I got a Big Mac and fries-- my favorite at the time. By the time we got back to their house I wasn't feeling well. I called my mom and told her so, and she advised me that often vomiting will relieve said discomfort. All that talk about it and... well... you know. I spent the rest of the day doing it. I developed a (food) aversion to McDonald's that day (I think it was the sesame seeds that really sealed the connection between throw up and McDonald's for me). To date, I have only had one piece of anything from McDonald's pass through my lips. It was a single french fry, and I did it for the sake of a joke. I still remember, I was in St. George with some friends and Burger King (and everywhere except McDonald's) was closed. I decided to starve rather than eat there. Bonnie held a fry in front of my face, in reference to a story she once told me, and I ate it. I still shudder when I think about it...