Secret Fast Food

A few months ago, after my friend Angela and I had finished a night yoga class, she got into my car so I could driver her to hers.  She hadn't yet shut the door when she said,

"You went to McDonalds?!?!"

In the front cup holder was a kid-size Diet Coke from earlier in the day.  I thought briefly about telling a white lie and making up an excuse.  After all, I live in LA, work in the film business, and with my Spanx can fake a size 4.   But the truth is, there is no explanation for a kids meal in my car, as the only kid in my car ever is my 7 month old, and he has yet to develop a taste for cheeseburgers. 

So I 'fessed up.  "Hey, it was that kind of day,"  I said.

What I meant was that it was the kind of day where the only chance I really got to eat was in my car, driving from one errand to another, feverently hoping the baby didn't freak out before we had gotten all our errands done.  You  know what I'm talking about, especially new moms - when you're home and he's awake, you feel the need to be with him all the time so he doesn't roll into the coffee table or the dog bowl.  When he is asleep you are busy washing or making bottles/ doing laundry/emptying the dishwasher/taking a shower/defrosting dinner/going to the bathroom/desperately searching for that last hit of meth so you can make it through the day.  By the time you've finished those things (and gotten in a good cry) he's awake again.

Angela's next sentence immediately made me feel better about being caught.  "I'm not a Happy Meal fan," she confessed.  "But have you had their McGriddles?!  Oohhhh..." then she rolled her eyes, licked her lips and gave a shudder.

See, we are not alone.