Talk to the Hand

Long ago, in my youth, my mother would often take us to the McDonald’s drive-thru and get us burgers and fries to take home (and eat at the table on real plates).  We always sat in the same seats; Mom drove since my sister and I were still riding bikes to school, my sister sat in the front passenger seat so I wouldn’t have to hear her complain about sitting somewhere besides the “shotgun” seat, and I sat in back behind the driver’s seat.  One day the service was particularly slow and after several minutes the intercom remained silent.

This is when I first discovered my inner prankster.  Covering my mouth with my hand to mimic the muffled sound of the 1980’s speaker (“attention K-mart shoppers”) I proceeded to parrot the McDonald’s drive-thru attendant. 

“Hi, yes, I’d like 4 cheeseburgers, 2 with no pickl-”
“Shhh I’m giving our order.  2 with no pickles, 2 large fr-”
“Stop interrupting me, where are your manners?  2 large fr-”
“MOM!  That was me.”
“What? I’m ordering your lunch”
“But it was me!”
“What was you?”
“Asking for our order.”
“No, that was over the intercom.”


Mom didn’t speak one word to me the rest of the afternoon.  😛


5 responses to “Talk to the Hand

    • She actually has a handwritten journal of all the funny things my sister and I did as young children… I don’t think this one is in there but it is a priceless collection of memories! 🙂


    • No, I doubt it, because this blog is the first writing I’ve done without having to turn it in to a teacher or professor. Sure, I’ve written a technical manual or three as part of a job but nothing like this until February. I’m musician by training, not a writer. I’m just finding that I enjoy stringinging words together. 🙂 Thank you for the compliment!


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