I’m proud of what I did this past Christmas day. How many of you can say the same?

I know, I know, Christmas is all about getting abortions, euthanizing old pets, and re-fashioning chocolate wrappers to appear as though they are not empty and then delighting in your family’s disappointment as they discover them — but this year I decided to do something special. I drove to McDonald’s in a minivan with Brad and the kids in Louisiana and picked up some of those cool kid meals.

Photo by Breakmold via Flickr

What are those meals called again? Brad seemed to think that they were called ‘Tra-la-la and I don’t give a darns’, but that didn’t ring true. I tried to order four Gleeful Plebian Repasts — which fell on deaf ears. Brad then suggested that we act out the meal for the drive-through speakers to illustrate our point.

We all pretended to eat these meals and then rubbed our drumtight abdomens and said things like ‘Yummm’ and ‘Woww’ and ‘I’m so glad.’ I think that Brad’s impersonation of a short-tempered southern black man trying to open the packaging of the included toy was the most valuable performance — we got our fun boxed soviety meals. They were terrific! Regular boxed lunch customers (like the homeless and besieged) know what’s up.