The hard part was deciding.... "What do you want?" "I don't care, what do you feel like?" Back and forth for a few volleys until I finally narrow the field, "I think I really want a real hamburger. Not something that may have been mixed with fillers in some factory (although their are no guarantees I recently learned) but at least believably real looking and fresh. I also think I'd rather eat at home so how about a to-go order from someplace?"
He made the rest of the decisions and I couldn't have been happier. I walked into the kitchen and could immediately smell the sinful scent of beef and french fries. A separate container held toppings of lettuce, tomato, pickles and slices of red onion so I could decide my toppings and the ratio of each - quite a treat. The bun was toasty. The fries were crispy outside and had been seasoned with a bit of salt and pepper. My son had a chicken wrap and while I'm sure he found it delicious, I was thoroughly happy with my choice.
We talked about his school, the new young lady he recently brought home (I always sneak in the heavy stuff over a meal) and work. We had each others undivided attention and it felt like I had always hoped being a mother would - fabulous.
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