I’m standing in the line at McDonald’s quickly scanning the picture menu up on the wall. I scan and stop at my favorite. The quarter pounder bacon and cheese. It gets me every time.

MC burger

Between standing in line with four children barking out questions (“What’s the Happy Meal toy today, Mommy?!)  and brushing elbows with the people before me who are standing off to the side waiting on their number to be called, I try to make my ordering process as painless as possible. For me and the new trainee, who by the way I would like to add – great choice McDonalds in Kernersville! This guy was so sweet and adorable. And tall.

Now the reason I am writing about this, is because the same thing happened to me at another McDonalds just 2 weeks ago in another town closer to my home.

Two weeks ago, when I ordered my quarter pounder with cheese, I said this exactly. “Instead of the mustard and ketchup can you make it with mayonnaise?”

“No ketchup and mustard? You want it plain?”

“No, I want everything on it that comes on it; I want the lettuce, bacon, onions, and cheese, but instead of the mustard and ketchup, I want mayonnaise.”

I watched as the cashier tapped the cash register so it would know how to make my burger.

M i n u s   k e t c h u p…m i n u s   m  u s t a r d… a d d    m a y o n n a i s e….

I got my order and went with the kids to sit down. After getting everyone’s food spread out, chocolate milks open, straws, napkins, and ketchup from the condiment bar, and Happy Meal toys unwrapped, I  opened my own food.

My burger only had mayonnaise on it.

No lettuce. No pickles. No onions.  Just mayonnaise. I ate it anyway because it wasn’t worth the hassle to go back up there.

Fast forward to yesterday. When talking with the super sweet over-achiever trainee, (who by  the way was more interested in making sure my kids all got the Happy Meal toy they wanted than worrying about the long line of people behind us) I again said I wanted this burger made with mayonnaise instead of mustard and ketchup, emphasizing the words (instead of) as I spoke.

I watched the little customer view window on the back of the register  – Tap tap tap…. m i n u s   m u s  t a  r d…m i n u s   k e t c h u p…tap tap…a d d   m a  y o n n a i s e, tap tap tap. I got my food, went and sat down.

My burger only had mayonnaise.

Modern technology is often times not as good as the older simpler way. Such as pencil and paper and sticking the little paper order sheets on the clips next to the cook’s window. Remember those?

Primitive. Simple. Written in “cook abbreviated code”, and very few mistakes.

But I know for a fact that restaurants today would never go back to the old way.

So next time?  I’m just ordering chicken nuggets.



If you’ve just popped in and you haven’t been here in a while, or this is your first time, you will need to briefly read the post below this one. I’ll wait.

Ok, so our room is done. Minus the decor and bedding which I haven’t decided on yet. I took a photo with my cell which was really difficult because I couldn’t get the whole room in the frame. I fear that I will never leave this room. It makes me that happy. However, I have turned into the bedroom nazi.

Because I have kids.

And kids are messy and destroy things.

And kids are evil.

And a tad bit scary.

As in this photo. Here is the picture I took. See what I mean? A child appeared ( they’re everywhere, they’re everywhere!) pulling in a strange ghost light from the window.


I’m sleeping with my light on tonight.

But back to being a nazi…I have been so rigid about the kids coming in and out of this room, with our new Berber carpet and shiny new furniture. I’ve seen the bottoms of their feet and it can get scary. I’ve seen their sharp edged toys they like to roll on surfaces. So my rule is they have to wear socks when coming in the room and no toys can pass the doorway.

I can hear it now…as adults they will tell their spouses about the time in their childhood when mom turned evil and unreasonable. Of course this conversation will come long before they have kids of their own and buy brand new carpet for their bedroom.

I rest my case.


Dear Diary: When is a lie not a lie?

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