I have a confession to make. Sometimes I take my kids to McDonalds.
It’s like the trump card you play when you’re dangerously close to losing the game. The last time I sat in with a Choc Chip Frappuccino (my weakness) and a Happy Meal a woman came over with balloons and I could have kissed her. Another woman appeared with a free fruit cup and I could have kissed her too. The Wee Man, who’d been driving me nuts the way only four year olds can, was miraculously transformed. Even KD, one year old and bouncing around in a high chair gnawing on an apple slice, wasn’t causing any trouble.
So when McDonalds’ PR person asked if I’d like to an advance pack of the Roald Dahl goodies planned for the Happy Meal box this month, I was only too happy to accept and write about it.
The boys were very interested in the golden package mummy brought to the table and gleefully emptied it.
The accessories were great fun but it was the pocket-size books with excerpts from all the novels I loved as a child that really got me.
Not only did the boys love them, I found that I could actually remember whole lines. I must have read each book a dozen times as a child. I slipped them into the changing bag when we were done, they’re a great size and another trump card to play should the golden arches be out of range. Thanks McDonalds!