My sweet mother-in-law brought me lunch the other day when she came over to watch Banner (who was sent home with a rash from day care) while I ran back to the office to finish a report.
Except she brought me chicken from McDonald's, and I don't eat fast food. Especially, not after THIS went viral on Facebook earlier this year. Because, ew.
But I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I ate two pieces with a smile on my face and sick feeling in my stomach.
Trevor thought the whole thing was hysterical, and proceeded to make fun of me all afternoon. Because, you know, he is a supportive jackhole and all.
Except when he got home he ATE the remaining pieces of chicken in the fridge voluntarily, and kept trying to get me to admit that I secretly liked the way the food tasted. If I could have gotten over the fact that the chicken was overly-processed, fried, liquid goo (which, no), it was still way too salty for my palate.
But now whenever we drive past a Micky D's, Trevor makes some smarta$$ comment about my favorite restaurant. And, in case you haven't noticed, McDonald's is every where.
Sigh...
No comments:
Post a Comment