Dear Lincoln,
You are such an "All-American-Boy!" That or I'm just a fast food mom. Anytime we drive by Wendy's (and occasionally McDonald's) you yell out, "I want two fries!" You're really saying you want french fries, but I usually give you two at a time...so I think that's where the two fries call originated. Since we're generally out and about for other reasons, I deny your request and we move on. But, on Sundays, your father and I like to pick up lunch after the church meeting, so it's almost guaranteed that you'll get french fries. French fries aren't exactly the healthiest thing for you to eat. In fact, I question if there is anything healthy about them.
Because of this, one time I decided I was going to make you sweet potato fries, only they don't get crunchy from baking, and deep frying them sort of defeats the point.
As horrible as traditional fries likely are, your smile when you're allowed to eat one (after you've finished your also unwholesome heavily breaded chicken nuggets) is priceless. And kind of worth it.
You're my guy (with the fry) I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment