I’m not a Mickey D’s fan. I like the fruit parfait, the fries (like I need them) and the Egg McMuffin. They can keep the rest. Oh, yeah. I do like the ice cream cone well enough. I don’t like their salads. Their chicken is just nasty.
Anyway, last night Girl had an away basketball game. By the time the bus got her back to the school and I picked her and one of her teammates up it was 8:30 and I didn’t have anything prepared for dinner. In a moment of…idiocy…lunacy…extremely poor judgment…I offered to take them to the Golden Arches.
“Really? For real? You’ll take us there?”
Sheesh. You’d have thought I’d offered tickets to Disney.
I continued to compound my brain fart. I hadn’t had one of their burgers in well over a year so I thought “what the hey” and ordered a Big-n-Nasty sans mayo.
I pretty much have a cast iron stomach and strong constitution but at 2:30 this morning I’m awake because my meal, and I use that term very loosely, is sitting in my gut like a big lump of blech. I still feel nauseous now.
Never again.
