So I am currently sitting in a MacDo's in Santa Jorge that is infamous in our family. Here's why. Son Number Quatro got us tossed out of here once. He was in the playroom and went all crazy on the styrofoam balls--nailing unsuspecting children in the head and so forth--so management told us to ram-scay.
Anyway. For years afterwards, whenever we drove by this establishment, Ken and I told this son to duck in the back seat so no one here would see him because we'd been banned. Not only from MacDonald's, but also from St. George.
He confessed yesterday that he believed us for years. Imagine the burden that must have been for our poor little boy.
SCORE ONE FOR THE PARENTS!!!
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2 comments:
Poor, poor fourth son.
There is an Arby's in Pocatello that we pass en route to Yellowstone every year. It's famous because my dad once saw it and asked, "Arby's.... That's not Burger King, right?"
Right. And we won't let him forget it.
I love that you call Saint Geezy, Santa Jorge.
You never know, though, that McDonald's. Aren't they a part of the Pentavirate? You know, with the Rothschild's and The Colonel?
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