Well, I was going to make this little post all about my kids and their Christmas programs. But something else has come up and also only Ty has actually had his program. So when the others have done theirs, I’ll be happy to critique them via this blog. And don’t worry, I won’t hold back. I may even be harder on them than I would be on the other children of the world. On to the real blog post:
Every once in awhile, after the children have fallen asleep and it’s just Curtis and I awake in the house, we sit on the couch together, turn and look deep into the others eyes and telepathically we decide on magic. So I rushed to the truck to go get a late night meal (or fourth meal for you Taco Bell junkies) for just my beloved and me to eat without having to buy food for the other idiots who constantly ask for eatin’s.
I thought surely at 9 pm McDonalds wouldn’t be crowded. Naturally I was so mistaken. Before I continue I have to say, I think our McDonalds has some sort of radio scrambling thingy, because every time I pull into the drive thru, all my radio stations turn to static. Well, except the am channel that I believe is bouncing around since it’s original airing in 1935. What up wit dat?
Okay, so I go to the M-C’s that has the dual drive thru lanes. Let me tell you something, the residents of Mount Vernon, Illinois are not smart enough to figure out the dual lane drive thru. I had 4 cars in front of me all going in ONE lane. There are 2 HUGE signs that read – Both Lanes Are Open At All Times. But due to the fact that most Mount Vernonians(?) shouldn’t drive more than a John Deere, they certainly weren’t going to be able to figure out something as difficult as a talking box that asks you if you want BBQ sauce with those nuggets.
Finally I’ve made my order, but am now faced with morons who have no grasp of taking turns on pulling up to the window. “Durrr, is it my turn? Who do I pay with these chickens for my nuggets? Can I have those boxes fer a fort?” Jesus, Mary and Joseph, FIGURE IT OUT, GOMER! Now that they’ve received my moolah, I am forced to sit directly next to the pay window with a teenage boy staring at me for 15 minutes. Literally 15 minutes. 15 minutes may not sound like a lot, but try this. I had Curtis do this years ago because he too assumed 15 minutes wasn’t that long. Go sit in your vehicle for 15 minutes. Don’t move and imagine, if you can, 4 screaming children, that will scream and whine for the full 15 minutes. If you have small children, have them do this. Come back to me in 15 minutes.
Have you killed yourself yet? Perhaps you used the time to write me a beautiful haiku? In reality that sucked ass, right? 15 minutes is 15 hours when you cannot get out of a situation. Trust me. Having 15 minutes of not moving, allowed me to curse wildly under my breath, I didn’t want the teenager to get any bad ideas from this gorgeous lady in the truck outside his window. Eventually I stopped the cursing and that’s when I realized I had listened to almost all of In the Name of Love. I HATE with all the hate I can have in me, U2. If I had had 2 knives, I would have gladly jammed them in my ears than listen to that. And why the hell was 770 am playing a U2 song?
I FINALLY got the food and the girl that was handing it to me said, “Sorry for your wait.” And I’m a good sport to people I don’t know, so I said, “No problem. I won’t yell, I hope no one else yells at you either!” She goes, “Whatever” and shut the window. I then looked shocked, cursed under my breath and wished a thousand pimples on the thousand that she already had.
Then I got home to cold ass fries, watered down Sprite and a McRib that sent me retching into the toilet. Luckily, Alexis and Ty can smell when the neighbors have McDonalds, so they ventured down from their slumber and horded my frycicles. Just another great evening in my life.
^That's how I feel after eating McDonalds.^
Love,
Stephanie
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