Yet More Evidence That McDonald's Is Run By Unreasonable Dicks

OK. I haven't talked about this much, because I don't, as a rule, but my wife and I are splitting up.

Part of this is that she - and my son - are going back to Pennsylvania.

Which means it's going to be a long time before I get to see my son again. Not because of anger, but just because we're both poor, and we're going to be very far apart.

So tonight is the second-to-last night I get to spend with him.

Right, let's go someplace fun!

Err, giant rainshower. The park is nothing but mud, our local mall has apparently died a sad and slow death and now haunts the landscape, a haggard-looking ghost looming over a vast expanse of parking lot like the looming specter of yet another real estate crash; where can we go?

James says, quite seriously, "I want toy."

Ok, where can we go where he gets a toy AND he can play?

Right, McDonald's has a play area, indoors, and he gets a toy in a happy meal. He won't be too traumatized by the over-fried food, the soggy cardboard buns, the limp and tasteless fries; Mickey D's it is.

So, father and son, we set off into the early evening, hand, in hand, in car seat.

The whole way, he's chanting about toys and food.

"I want to eat, Daddy!"
"I want a toy, Daddy!"
"Move that bus, Daddy!"

...It's not my fault his mom likes that home makeover show.

We get there, we get "food," and we get settled and eat.

After he decides he's had enough horrible stomach trauma, he says "Daddy, I want to go play!"

That's the whole idea, son.

So, I set him up in a chair, take his (small only by comparison to mine) shoes off his (small only by comparison to mine) feet, and turn him loose.

FREEDOM!!!

He runs over to the play area, and stops. Looks around in slight confusion.

There's the requisite brightly-colored pre-fab plastic tubes everywhere; safety netting to keep kids from falling off anything and coincidentally keep parents out of the play area entirely; giant slides, some kind of immense human hamster ball, a perfect place for kids to have a blast!

...All of it 10 feet off the ground, and reachable only by means of a kind of staircase made by alternating triangular platforms.

...Which are JUST too far apart.

Ages 3-12, right. My 3-year-old son, taller and bigger than almost any kid I've seen his age, can go no farther than the second "step," and gets to stand there and watch in frustration as kids old enough that they really shouldn't be playing on the damn thing anymore anyway - what the hell is a ten-year-old doing on a red plastic indoor slide?! - go scampering around up above him, as he is unable to climb up to them - and I am prevented from helping him by McDonald's wonderful safety netting.

He jumped up and down.

He stopped.

He started to sniffle.

He climbed back down, came out, took my hand, and dragged me to the table.

He stuck his (small only in comparison to mine) feet out for his (small only in comparison to mine) shoes.

He took my hand again.

He dragged me out of the restaurant, saying, tearfully, over and over again, "Daddy, I want to play. I want to PLAY."

We got to the car, I opened the door, he climbed in and got into his car seat. I buckled him in. He crossed his arms, ducked his head, and stuck his lower jaw out so far he looked like something out of a Dick Tracy comic.

I got in the car.

He said, very sulkily, "I want a FRY."

I gave him one.

We drove home, punctuated by an occasional sniffle or "more fries, daddy?"

Bada ba ba baaa, you fuckers.