Get Thee Behind Me, Ronald McDonald!

August 22, 2010

Driving home from the airport yesterday, Bunny had a McDonald’s Chocolate Shake Attack.

MilkshakeShe had to have one. That was all there was to it.

Strange. Bunny never goes to McDonald’s, and she has had approximately two of these (wonderfully thick and just plain chocolately awesome) shakes in the past 20 years. But there it was.

She knew she shouldn’t. Duh.

She also knew that as soon as she drove past a Mickey D’s (which at any point in America was likely to occur within any ten-minute period), she was going to pull in and order one.

She negotiated with herself. I’ll get a small. Just a small. She knew, though, that she was going for a large. Gigantic, if they had it.

Oh, boy. Why is this happening? It was a stressful day, but not that bad. Bunny has had many worse days than this.

And  yet, there was no denying that her lack of control was controlling her absolutely.

No McDonald’s, thank goodness, and now she was on the freeway. She tried to remember if there was one on her route. She promised herself she wouldn’t go actively looking for one. That was the deal she made with herself. She could do that much.

Half a mile from home, there it was.

She turned in. She pulled up to the drive-though speaker.

Hello! came the  mechanical greeting. Would you like  try our new Wild Berry Smoothie?

Why, yes, I would. A small, please.

Who said that?

So there you go. She went to McDonald’s with every intention of ordering the largest chocolate shake they would sell her —

1160 calories!

but she left with a small Wild Berry Smoothie

210 calories!


That was a MUCH better choice! A sign of, what, control? No, you can’t call this control. Mitigation of damages perhaps?

And you know what? It wasn’t bad, that Wild Berry Smoothie. And the chocolate shake craving was gone.

What happened? Why did she switch her order? She didn’t make a conscious decision. She was surprised to hear it come out of her mouth.

Why did the smoothie make her just as happy as the ChocoShake would have, and why did she even want it to start with?

If we knew the answers to those questions, Bunny would be a size four.

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