I never go to McDonald’s. Never. Never. Ever. Except…when family comes into town.
It’s usually the breakfast of choice when my in-laws or dad come into town. It’s kind of become an unspoken requirement of any visit. I’m not sure why, but it probably has to do with the fact that I’m never prepared to make a nice breakfast for everybody. So, off to those golden arches it is.
Now, when my dad’s in town, I find this little venture to be quite silly and strange. My dad setting foot in a Mickey D’s is an oxymoron, if you will.
You see, growing up, we weren’t allowed to eat at McDonald’s. One reason being that we didn’t have a McDonald’s in our town until I was almost out of high school. But the other reason having to do with my dad’s occupation. Being a cowboy/rancher/feed salesman, my dad provides quality feed to produce quality beef, and well, in his opinion, McDonald’s “quality beef” was not up to par. No matter how much we begged, if he was there for dinner, you could be sure that McDonald’s was not on the menu.
My how times have changed, though. Now I’m the one refusing to go to McDonald’s because in my opinion, their healthy options are not up to par, but if my dad’s here for breakfast, you can be sure that McDonald’s is on the menu.