In a sign of wonderfulness, Gideon slept in this morning. He slept in like I used to sleep in when I was in college. Ten o’clock, people. Ten. It was awesome. I got up, showered, ate something and took a nap while I waited for him to make some noise. Delicious.
He ate a waffle and we played with trucks and balloons and were having a great time, but he just kept asking about “Mama”. Don’t misunderstand him, now. I am Mama. And then again, so is my mother. Her name is also Mama, but you can’t call her that. You need to call her “Grandma” or he’ll just keep repeating “Mama” until you acknowledge that you are not talking about me. It’s a little confusing, but with a few short questions you can figure it out. So today he was fixated on Grandma and I didn’t want to argue, so off we went to see her.
Since we were much further into the day than usual, I realized that we were going to need to have something for him to eat while in her office and thought I’d stop to get Grandma a shake and fries along with a semi-Happy meal for him. Having consumed plenty of Corn Pops this morning, I didn’t need anything. We pulled up to the window and placed our order.
1 4-pc. chicken nugget happy meal with white milk
1 fry
1 vanilla shake
They asked if the Happy Meal was for a boy or a girl. I said boy. They gave me the total, which I thought was stupidly high (isn’t McDonalds supposed to be cheap? Isn’t that why people eat there?). $7.99. I got out a ten dollar bill and waited to pay.
I paid.
I drove to the next window where they handed me the bag and a cup tray with the milk and shake inside. I asked if there were straws in the bag. She said ‘yes.’ It was the wrong question.
I should’ve asked “Are the nuggets in there?” and they would’ve had to say “no.”
We got to Grandma’s office and made our discovery. It was saddest for me, since I was then going to have to haul my 8.65 month pregnant self into McDonalds with a 22 month old on my hip to get four pieces of chicken amalgamation. Gideon happily ate his fries and drank his milk. He played with a flag, a pinwheel, a star and one of those wire and bead toys. He acted shy in front of Grandma’s coworkers. We got back into the car.
The ten minute trip inside of McDonalds to get our nuggets was fairly uneventful (a man with dried blood on his pants ordering a fillet of fish being the only real cause for alarm), although the kid behind the counter wasn’t sure if he believed me. Dude. What you don’t know is that no pregnant woman would drive back to McDonalds and actually come INTO the store to steal four nuggets. I’d have gone with the 10 piece for sure.
Somehow though, I kept all of this inside. And this. And, of course, this too.
