So we went to McDonald’s…
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It’s that time of year when, out of sheer desperation, I begin making regular treks to McDonald’s with my wee ones. They have begun to beg for outdoor activities and while some days it’s almost warm enough, they don’t last long and are underfoot within moments, begging to be entertained.
I only have so many ideas.
And Pinterest only offers so many things I’m actually willing to do.
So we go to McDonald’s.
Sometimes…I don’t even buy anything.
Since my sweet sister is a touch OCD about germs, I’ve begun to see playplaces as a writhing and swarming infestation of germs. I’ve always known that, I just try really hard not to think about it. There’s a river in Egypt and I float down it as much as possible. (You know…DeNial)
But despite the infestation of germs, I made an exodus to McD’s last week. I had my little guy with me and my 11 year-old daughter. My toddler thought it was Disneyland. He took his shoes off and despite begging and pleading from me, took his socks off too and placed them neatly in the shoe receptacle with all the other shoes and he ran off to play.
He was in heaven and he was no longer screaming at me, so I was quite content. There was peace in the world.
My daughter purchased herself some French Fries and a shake and we were having a lovely time. There were only two other families there and after a short time, one family left. My little guy was happily going down the slide with his sister and then going into the basketball area and throwing the ball.
It was all quite lovely until…
My daughter went with Baby Boy into the basketball area and says, “Ewwwww! Mom! Someone threw up and Baby Boy STEPPED in it!!”
Nice. Or so very gross. Whatever.
I grabbed Mr. Baby and thanked heaven that they had sanitation wipes there for just such a situation and proceeded to wipe down the boy’s feet. Repeatedly. We don’t need the stomach flu again. Then I sent Miss L to inform the front desk.
Baby Boy was unfazed by the incident and proceeded to go down the slide a couple more times. A worker came in with a mop bucket, glanced in the direction of the mess and walked off with the mop bucket in tow. He came back with a broom. With. A. Broom.
He walked into the basketball area, then noticed he was stepping in something and retreated. Not the sharpest tool, I’m thinking.
We left the sea of germs before I could see how this all played out. That’s probably for the better.
You would think this experience would have done me in for the season, but that just shows how desperate we’ve become. Even after relaying my little tale, my sister and I willingly took our children into another writhing cesspool a few days later.
It’s just that time of year.