Traitors!

I gave birth to you!  I am your number one fan. Yet, you betray me to your father.  DARN YOU!

Those sweet, innocent little voices telling your daddy that you didn’t even want to eat at McDonald’s, but mommy made you.  You asked for asparagus and prime rib, but NO.  Mommy demanded that you eat fast food or nothing else.  Those same sweet little voices that so cheerfully accepted my plans for a quick dinner, followed by soft-serve ice cream and an hour plus on the indoor playground to wear your little bodies out and prime you for early bedtime

What is the saying about ‘best laid plans’? Oh yeah. I remember now.

When your father comes home as you are all finishing up your before-bedtime routines (pick out clothes for tomorrow/shower/brush teeth/potty/bedtime stories), you tell him about how I practically forced those delicious nuggets (chicken lips and ass, I think) down your respective gullets and how you pleaded with me not to pile a dessert on your overstuffed stomachs, then you tried to grab the keys away from me attempting to leave the germ-ridden restaurant.  Your father listened to your exaggerated stories of torture, hanging on every word.  Then he quickly hugged each of you and kissed you goodnight, pointing you to your rooms while looking over your heads and smiling AT ME.  Freaking TRAITORS!

See when we go to McDonald’s again!

**UPDATE**

After spending most of the afternoon and early evening yesterday meeting with a plastic surgeon, I wanted to discuss the details with my husband.  What’s the solution, you ask?  Mickey Dees!  DH’s idea, I swear! The girls ate and played (read: created more socks for mommy to toss in the biohazard container outside our house) while DH and I had a semi-private conversation in the family dining area at McDonald’s. *SIGH* What did they eat, you ask? Of course, the nuggets I mentioned earlier.  My sister tells me that chicken have no lips, so that only leaves…well, YOU do the math.

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3 Comments

  1. mrs. nygren said,

    January 23, 2007 at 3:59 am

    Mmm, deep-fried miscellaneous bits of chicken carcass… wait, I’m sorry, what I think I meant to say was BLECH! (Chickens don’t actually have lips, so all that really leaves is– well, *you* do the math.)

    Seriously though, I think tomorrow you should sit down the girls and offer them your deepest apology for putting them through that frightful ordeal, and solemnly swear to them that you’ll never ever take them there again. Ever.

    Ever.

    That oughta do it.

  2. Karen said,

    January 23, 2007 at 8:46 am

    How mean can one mother be?? I’m sure they gagged on each and every bite. I wonder how soon they will be begging for that abuse again. Hang tough!

  3. JayMonster said,

    January 25, 2007 at 11:49 pm

    Oh, my daughter pulls this on my wife all the time. I will get home from work, she will be bouncing off the walls, and I will ask something like, “Who gave you the silly pills again?” and invariably, she will say something like, “Mommy did, because she is going out tonight, so she wound me up all for you”

    Oh, and thanks for reminding me why we don’t eat at McD’s. Ugh.


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