McDonald's Can Save You (Maybe)

It had been a particularly rough week and I was feeling down.
Crabby.
Caged.
Claustrophobic.
Guilty.
Useless.

So the obvious answer?
McDonald's.
(*duh*)

Ella and I arrived at the M-mecca, ordered a couple of grilled chicken wraps to share, and sat just outside the room with the play area so she could gaze longingly at all the germy kids inside. (Hey, it's my bad mood, I can do what I want.)

I expected the service that is usual for any establishment these days. You know, strung out, nonchalant teenagers who say "no problem" instead of "you're welcome." This day I was pleasantly surprised.

We ordered no Happy Meal, yet the manager gave us a toy.
Appropriate for Ella's age!
And a Ronald smile mask!

When they saw me struggling with baby, bag, and purse, they offered to bring my meal out.
And then they did it!
And even asked if I needed salt and ketchup.
And fetched it!

And then, as if on cue, an older gentlemen offered to let Ella stick her grubby little finger in his ice cream to take a bite. (To which I politely declined. Please refer to these.)

Where was I? Some alternate universe? Was this what was happening to the world while I was locked away every day?!?

Say it ain't so!

Just as the clouds parted, the birds started to sing, the rainbow appeared and unicorns jumped around cotton candy trees, I watched a mother and her 4-year-old daughter walk up to the self-serve soda station. The little girl put her cup under the water and her mom immediately snatched it away screeching, "We paid for a drink! You're getting orange drink instead of water!"

It was once again clear why I didn't venture out that often.

I smiled down at Ella who was watching the scene intently and happily drinking her water.
From her own water bottle.
That we brought with us.
FOR FREE.

My mood was a little lighter.
At least for that moment.