Andrea’s Weblog

I realized this week that Elizabeth is not the typical two-year-old. When we go out to eat “fast food” we usually end up at our local burrito chain, Barberitos. (Elizabeth used to demand “Wheatie-weed-ohs!”) Every couple months we’ll end up at Chick-Fil-A for the playground. If you ask her what she eats at Chick-fil-a she’ll tell you fruit, which is true, but I’m sure most of her peers would answer chicken fingers. I got her an ice cream cone from DQ . I looked over at her half-eaten cone to see she’d eaten the brightly-colored wrapper with it. We had a good laugh over that.

Someone must have told her about McDonalds recently because I asked her where she wanted to eat lunch yesterday and she replied McDonalds. I asked her what she wanted to eat there and she said “a hot dog.” The poor girl has never had a happy meal, but her first one won’t be any time soon if I can help it.

Part of me is proud that we’ve thus far managed restraint in the face of the colorful fast food marketing aimed at us, but I wonder how long I can keep her from what seems to be a part of growing up in the US?