McDonald's

In the past, oh, almost nine months, we’ve gone through the drive-thru of our nearest McDonalds…a lot.

More often than we should, actually.

Sidebar: There are three drivers in our family of four. Care to guess how many of those three drivers is willing to order/purchase food at a drive-thru?

The answer, is one. ONE of the three of us is willing/able to order food at a drive-thru.

One guess as to which ONE of us that is.

So at least one night each week, I’ll get home after working for 9+ hours that day and I’ll be greeted at the door by one of my lovely children who will inform me that ‘Dad’ is sending use to McDonald’s to pick up dinner. He seems to think that if he gives me his debit card, that’s his portion of providing dinner.

Okay, so it’s only about 10 miles away but still.

So yeah.

Now to be fair, in all the times we’ve been through this McD’s drive-thru, they’ve messed up our order one time.

That’s pretty good odds if you figure we’ve been there at least twice a month (but we’ve been SO MUCH more often…) in the past nine months.

But the one time they messed up it, we didn’t realize it until I was about a block away. I turned around and got back in line at the drive-thru. Thankfully, this McD’s, even when there’s a long-ish line is pretty quick.

So when it was my turn at the intercom, I just said, in my sweet little drive-thru ordering voice, “Hi, we just went through a few minutes ago and you shorted us two orders of fries.”

Silence.

So I waited, and waited. Finally, because the person on the other end of the intercom still hadn’t replied I said, “Uh, could we, like, get those fries?”

At that point I was instructed to just pull forward. No apology, no offer of a Flurry for my trouble. Just “Pull forward.”

The person at the window who gave us the fries we’d been shorted didn’t apologize either. What is this world coming to, I ask you.

Alyssa and I shared a look and a laugh as we pulled away. It was just so ridiculous.

Oh yes, didn’t I mention that when I’m sent to McD’s with Tom’s card to pick up dinner, the girls ALWAYS go with me. Like, literally, always. The only time they’re not with me when I’m picking up food is when I get it right after work before I go home.

Yes, I’m a little bitter that Tom gets EVEN MORE time at home ALONE. I just…well. There’s nothing to be done about that, is there?

So perhaps I should just let it go.