Poor deprived child

It recently came to my attention that my baby, my little Allison, my poor waif, was living a life of deprivation.

It was brought to my attention, of course, by Allison.

The story goes that we took the girls Christmas shopping...in 2007, mind you. Julianne went with me, Allison was with Clarence. We did some shopping but had to be back to the church for quiz practice. I took Julianne to McD's and, instead of getting her something off the $1 menu, I sprung for a Big Mac. Her very first Big Mac. I'm confident Clarence fed Allison that night, too, but that obviously doesn't matter.

Of course, nothing would do but for big sister to tell little sister just how wonderful a Big Mac tastes. How sure she is her sister would enjoy one.

Over a year goes by. Suddenly, Allison starts talking about Mom buying Julianne a Big Mac but never getting one for her. I had absolutely no recollection of the event that has so scarred my poor darling. I take them to McD's once in a while. We usually get yogurt parfaits (if you haven't tried one, you should-they're really good-and certainly healthier than big macs). Never does she mention the injustice I've done her while we're in line at McD's. Oh, no. Bringing it up much later is far more effective in producing a guilt trip in your mother. She knows this.

Why this all came out during our visit with Grandpa and Grandma, I don't know. But this post is my documentation of Allison's first Big Mac.

Julianne was right-she did like it.