Good Intentions

We've all heard "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions".

Our entire family found ourselves somewhat unexpectedly on a trip to the city yesterday to pick up a truck. Since we were going to miss dinner, we stopped to grab some fast-food on the way. I wasn't feeling particularly well, so my husband did the ordering all by himself. I didn't give it a second thought. He's a fully functional father. In fact, he's SO functional and confident that he "upgraded" their requests.

First we stopped at Hardee's, where Lee wanted minature hamburgers. Its almost the only fast food he'll eat along with fries. He's ... particular. Which you'd never tell since he's also ... sturdy. Then we stopped at TacoBell, where Ron wanted a bean burrito. Its one of his most favorite things, and a treat since we rarely stop at TacoBell.

There was a line at TacoBell. I was starting to come round at this point, and casually mentioned to my husband "you forgot to order the bean burrito". He gave me the evil eye as he glanced over his shoulder at the back of the mini-van. "A little louder?... I got Ron the beef-n-tatertot burrito. I thought he'd like to try something new." I look at him in horror. Then I listened to him explain the whole "something new" thing to Ron, who had overheard "forgot bean burrito". Ron took it well. Mostly.

My husband looks over at me and asks subtlely and quietly "Which one likes cheese?" See, Ron loves cheese and Lee loves peanut-butter. There is NO overlap. I have this sinking feeling. I gently point out "Lee loves peanut-butter". My husband flinches. We sit there silently for a few minutes.

Suddenly, there's a gasp from the seat behind us. Lee explodes with "THOSE. ARE. CHEESEBURGERS." with the exact same contempt with which a veteran might say "THOSE. ARE. COMMUNISTS." Sure enough, I look down into the Hardee's bag and all the little hamburgers are wrapped in the conspicuous yellow wrappers indicating cheese! I just can't control my laughter. As I try to smother it into the window, my husband is frantically trying to convince Lee that trying the little burgers "a new way" is an adventure. It was not going well. Lee finally conceded that perhaps he could pick off the cheese (which was hard since it melted onto the meat).

In a fit of creative negotiating (of which he is a master), my husband suddenly announced that "Cheese and ice-cream are made of the same things, and you like ice-cream!" Is Lee fooled? Will he eat cheese? (By that time I'm laughing so hard its difficult to breathe.) Lee just looks as him before responding firmly "I don't like ice-cream on my little burger." My husband admits defeat, which is no small thing.

I don't know where Lee gets it! (Note to husband: Stop laughing like that, you could hyperventilate.)

Waves
 
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