8.02.2008
I certainly don't want to put McDonald's down in any way, but if we were living in the States or Canada it would definitely not be our first choice in fast food. I, personally, am a Chic-Fil-A / Wendy's kind of girl, while Sophie and John are really into Swiss Chalet (which sort of qualifies as Fast Food). Annie is pretty much into French Fries, so she hardly qualifies as a connoisseur, and sweet little Benjamin has no basis for comparison, coming here at all of three months of age.
Yes, this is all leading somewhere. Here, in the land of our adoption, which (again) I wouldn't want to dis in any way (see, here is me, avoiding all lawsuits), there is ONLY McDonalds. Yes, sad, but true. No Pizza Hut or KFC (I thought they were EVERYWHERE?!). No Burger King or Arbys. Most definitely no Chic-Fil-A or Zaxby's (those beloved Southern chains don't even make it north of the Mason Dixon very often).
So McDonalds has become the icon of North America in our midst. Nationals use it as the local hang out of choice, nursing a cup of tea or small french fries for hours so they can see and be seen. Ex-pats (ex-patriots, aka people not from here) go there for a taste of home and modern play ground equipment. There are four McDonalds in our city, but only one with superior playground equipment. We go there maybe 10 time a year, but the scads of other times we drive by the kids say, in unision, in their most apallingly annoying whiny voices (you know the voices), "Why can't we stop and play?" Already, by the very way in which they pose the question, they know the answer will be "NO"; and yet, they cannot help but ask, its an intrinsic reaction. Pavlov's dog has nothing on the Cook kids.
So when John's class wanted to have an end of class get-together and invite our kids, there really was only one logical choice...McDonalds by the soccer stadium. What unfolded provides some typical examples of life and interactions in this place we call home.
0 comments:
Post a Comment