My sister-in-law had her baby late Monday night -- Congrats to the Strosniders and welcome to the world sweet little Kendall - so last night after work the Martins made their way down town to visit the latest edition to the fam. I came from work and Chad left work picked up Z and we skipped dinner and met up at the hospital.
After sufficiant oooing and ahhhing -- she is beautiful really -- we decided to get some dinner with MiMi and PaPa (Chad's folks) and pick up some dinner for the new parents. So we all (yes that is four adults and one child in a large carseat for those counting at home) squeeze into our SUV that doesn't really feel like an SUV with all of us piled in there. We then began the debate -- where do we eat? There were shouts of Mexican or Vietnamese (HUH?) so MiMi asks Zachary "Where should we eat?" and he responds "McDonalds."
I can't even begin to express the color my face turns at this point. McDonalds? WHAT? We have probably eaten at McDonalds FIVE times in his life -- how does he know McDonalds? My mother-in-law is already a little worried about what I feed my child. I am a lazy lazy mom and use the microwave for a lot of meals - all about frozen veggies (you can buy vegetables fresh?) -- did you know you can buy premade meatloaf? And tend to feed him a lot of PBJ with baby carrots...and you wonder why MiMi has some nutritional concerns for her grandson. So this restaurant choice by my son is shocking to me (again how on earth did he know about McDonalds????) and of all the people to say it in front of -- really Zachary did you have to say that in front of MiMi????
She is very gracious and said "Oh don't worry. He probably knows it from commercials." She then turns to him and says "What would you want from McDonalds?"
Without missing a beat he says "Chicken, fries, and milk."
I believe MiMi has Child Protective Services on speed dial.
YIKES! As much as I cook now, I know how you feel because when J was Z's age meals were all about convenience and speed of service. Mac 'n cheese, chicken nuggets and burgers were staples if my dad wasn't cooking. Once we were in DFW and on our own, pizza was added to the mix and I, too, worried for my son's nutritional well-being. Eh, now I'm like, "Then, I just hoped he would eat SOMETHING and prayed that he'd still grow. Now, I watch him learning to cook (I can't send him to college without the basic knowledge of Ramen!) and wish he'd STOP growing!"
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