Here's the growing list of things I wish I could remember about McDonalds before I go there to eat:
1. The fries will be lukewarm and oversalted 94% of the time, leaving me with the distinct feeling of eating cardboard dipped in yummy ketchup.
2. My Big Mac will occasionally have ketchup on it, despite the fact that a large portion of the world population can still recite "two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun" without missing a beat.
3. After gourging myself on any value meal and washing it down with a Diet Coke (oh, the irony...) I will feel bloated, uncomfortable, gassy, and defeated.
4. Two hours after said gourging, I will feel hungry again, but will feel too incredibly guilty for eating the McDonalds food in the first place to possibly consider a snack, no matter how healthy.
5. I cannot complain about anything that is wrong with my food (see #2) because Dan insists it would be a crime against the disabled, as the lady working the front counter is missing several fingers on each hand. So I must simply eat my ketchupy Big Mac and my McFlurry with all of the M&M's not well mixed in, because I would embarrass my husband if I did otherwise.
I'm sure I will be adding to this list as time goes on, because try as I might, I can never bring these things to the forefront of my mind when one of us suggests McDonalds for lunch. They always arrive in a flood after the fact, when I am feeling bloated, greasy, and guilty.