Dear Westerville McDonald’s,

Due to the proximity of your establishment to my place of work, and due to the lack of other fast food establishments, I order food from you at least once a week far too frequently. While I am a big fan of your french fries and double cheeseburger, I am now on a quest to improve my health. And so I decided today that I would skip the greasy food that you do so well for one of your premium salads.

I’ve had these salads before. They’re good. The salad is filling while not being too high in fat and calories, especially with the grilled chicken instead of the crispy chicken. The portion size is good, even if the cost is a little high. However, today is became clear that your location clearly doesn’t have a lot of people requesting salads.

My first tip that something might be amiss was the sticker you forgot to remove from the salad container. This informed me that the salad MUST be used by 12:30pm 5/9/06. You were lucky, and came in just under the wire on that one: it was 12:25pm. Nothing like getting a salad that was 5 minutes away from expiring.

When I arrived back to the office, I then discovered you forgot to put in the croutons. An easy miss, I understand. But when faced with little more than dry chicken, lettuce, and salad dressing, those butter and garlic croutons are a carb-lover’s dream come true in a sea of leafy greens, protein and oil.

Then I carefully opened the top of the salad container, and was greeted with half a salad. The bowl was only half-full of lettuce. OK, I’m used to getting skimped on fries at McDonald’s, but now you’re skimping on LETTUCE? Seriously? In case you forgot, this damn salad costs four times more than my fries, and I want all the lettuce I’m supposed to have!

Which brings me to some important questions: why must I pay $5 in order to eat chicken and lettuce in a bowl, when a McChicken sandwich costs $1? Why must your healthy menu be so expensive, while people can eat all the crap they want from your dollar menu? Is the labor involved in cutting the chicken into strips really that expensive? What kind of Ginsu chef are you hiding amongst the immigrants in the kitchen? I shouldn’t be forced to make the decision to save money and eat cheap or splurge and eat healthy. Healthy vs. cheap is just not fair.

Perhaps next time I want a chicken salad, I will order a chicken sandwich with extra lettuce (which is free to add to sandwiches, so why are you skimping me in the salad?), cut the chicken up myself, mix with the lettuce from the sandwich, tear the bun up into crouton-sized pieces, and enjoy my $1 “premium” chicken salad.

Sincerely,

A woman who no longer wants to be fat, but wants her lettuce and croutons!

I’m ready to dig, lady.

This morning was spent at the annual Columbus Parent Expo, gathering all the swag I could get my hands on. I’ll gladly grab all the pens, crayons, cheap frisbees, and other junk businesses throw my way. I don’t even care that it has their logo on it. Aaron was busy, so it was just Cordy and I. This year it was held at the Columbus Zoo, and we had a few new firsts for the small girl child:

– First experience with a harmonica. She couldn’t quite understand what to do with it. Blow into it, sweetie. No, don’t try to inhale it!

– First freak out over seeing a costumed character. They had a giant ‘Y’ there from the YMCA. Cordy took one look and screamed, as anyone would do with a giant ‘Y’ coming at them.

– First time I’ve been called a single parent. No joke. A church group was there, and a lady stopped me to hand me a packet, saying: We have a new support group for single parents starting soon! Uh, what? Just because my husband isn’t with me doesn’t mean I’m a single parent. I’m married, you twit.

– First time Cordy wasn’t mistaken for a boy in her red pirate coat. Someone actually had the presence of mind to notice she was wearing a girly outfit under her coat! Thinking before speaking – amazing! No worries, though, she was still thought to be a boy by many people.

– First truly confused moment. The expo had big speakers playing children’s music all day. When we arrived, “Hot Potato” by the Wiggles was blasting out of the speakers. Cordy was looking everywhere for the Wiggles! She didn’t understand that there was nowhere to watch them.

After the parent expo, I packed the kid back into the car for our next stop: the Ohio State University Medieval and Renaissance Festival. Aaron and his partner were performing there today, and I didn’t want to miss catching up with many of our friends that we only ever seem to see at these gatherings.

Once again, Cordy “enjoyed” more firsts:

– First refusal of french fries. She ate a few, but most of her lunch was cast aside for the sippy cup full of milk. This child never turns down french fries.

– First improvised leash. (Watch out, Kristen, I’m talking about leashes!) Cordelia was in fine form, trying to escape from us at every chance. So Aaron took his costume sash and turned it into an improvised harness for Cordy. (We were very close to the street, where cars driven by inattentive college students sped by.) It didn’t last long, though. Of course, after the leash was removed, she resumed her attempts to run into the street. At first, I thought: She’ll turn around before she gets to the street. This was followed by me sprinting for her, after she proved me wrong. (No need to call CPS – I caught her with 10 feet to go before she got to the curb.)

– First bloody nose. I missed seeing this one, but I saw the aftermath. Apparently Cordy fell on the sidewalk, and caught herself with her face. One nostril was a little bloody, and she scratched the outside of her nose and a small patch of her forehead. Leave it to Cordy to do her own stunts.

– First in-person proof that our kid is a moose compared to others her age. Exactly her age, to be precise. One of our friends was there with her daughter, who was born the same day as Cordy. At one point, the friend’s older son asked, So, they were born on the same day, but a year apart, right? Uh, no. Same day, same year. Oh, she’s just a LOT bigger! Yep, we’ve been feeding ours steroids with a side of growth hormone.

After a melt-down of epic proportion due to no significant nap, we went home, where I got to experience one more first before bed:

– First Eskimo kiss. Cordy was snuggling with me on the couch, and put her face very close to mine and rubbed noses with me. It was so. amazingly. cute.

Now she is in bed, and after such a long day, I had my own first. I had a glass of wine with dinner, followed by a big bowl of ice cream. I think this busy day deserved two indulgences instead of just one.

Normally I’m not one to discuss celebrity news stories here on this blog. Don’t get me wrong – I love me some celebrity gossip. I’ve been known to comment on celebrity stories on Blogging Baby. However, the celebrity beat usually isn’t my thing for this blog. But lately a few celebrities and their pure idiocy have pushed me to the point that I can no longer contain my opinions.

Britney & KFed: If these two don’t personify the shallow end of the gene pool, I don’t know who else does. They have a son under a year old, and now the news has leaked that Britney is pregnant once again. Rumors have spread that she wanted another baby to save her marriage. Others say she just really wants a girl.

Whatever the reason, these two are a perfect example of why parents should require a license. So far, their son has endured a concussion, a drive down the highway in the driver’s seat on his mother’s lap without a restraint, and outings with an uninterested mother while the nanny cares for him. Poor guy, not even a year old yet and already his mom is uninterested in him and focusing on her next.

Yes, they’re in the public eye, and yes the media hounds them. Too bad. When you decided to become a celebrity, you signed on to the public being interested in you. It’s just a shame you’re not more interesting persons, other than for scandal.

Tom Cruise & Katie Holmes: This one scares me. A lot. See, as a teenager I found Tom Cruise to be a hottie. Just like Katie, I grew up thinking he was one of the sexiest men alive. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I watched Far & Away.

However, ever since this whole baby thing, Tom is about as attractive to me as Karl Rove & Cheney offering a 3-some. There’s this crazed look in his eyes now. At first I couldn’t place it, but now it’s clear to me. It’s the look of a man in control, and I don’t mean control in a good way. I know this look – it’s the look my father always has.

Since little Suri was born, Tom has been seen at every movie premiere, bragging about being a new dad. Yet while he was in Europe, where was the baby? Back home, of course, presumably with Katie. Tabloids are also reporting that Tom has been pushing Katie to start working out to get back into shape.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get back into shape. But two weeks after having a baby? Again, my thoughts drift to my father. He insisted my mom stay in shape. My mother had to always be dressed nicely with her hair done and makeup applied when they were together. He restricted her food while she was pregnant, and belittled her to get her to shape up after I was born. My mom breastfed me for only a couple of months, because my father didn’t like her breasts being functional. He thought it was primitive and gross, and so I was switched to formula.

And today, we saw pictures of Katie at her first outing. She’s slim and beautiful. She’s still sporting a small belly, but otherwise, she looks amazing. The first thing I noticed, however, was the lack of milk-producing breasts. Look closely at the pictures – those are NOT working boobs. No way, no how. Sure, they’ve travelled south a bit, as most post-preg breasts do, but they’re way too deflated to be in production.

It makes me sad to think that they most likely never even tried breastfeeding, probably because it would be inconvenient for Mr. Cruise. He needs his girl to be looking just right for all those premieres, and leaky boobs wouldn’t be the look he was going for. Nevermind that breastfeeding boobs would have been three times as big, and guarantee that everyone was looking at Katie, or well, at least her rack. Oh wait, Tom wants people looking at him, not her.

Once they finally show the baby in public, I will bet nearly anything that he will be the one showing Suri off while Katie stands quietly behind, waiting to change Suri’s diaper or give her a bottle. How do I know? Again, Mr. Cruise and my father have that exact same look in their eyes. While my parents were married, my mother wasn’t allowed to touch me other than to stop my crying, change my diaper or feed me. She did all the work, and other than that, I was his little prize to show off to his friends. He bragged to his friends about being a dad, but did nothing to prove he did anything other than provide half of the genetic code.

You’ll notice that any news of TomKat has come from Tom. Katie no longer has a voice. He announced that her name is now Kate, which is a name better-fitting a woman who has given birth. Had this come from Katie herself, I would have given it more credit. But she has become invisible, showing herself only when Tom wants her to.

I could be totally off on all of this. I know that the seedy underbelly of the media can twist facts to present celebrities as heroes or villains. We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. However, I have a strong feeling I’m right, just based off of the look in his eyes. Katie, dear, it’s not too late to get away. You don’t need a man to tell you what to do and where to go. Be a strong woman, and provide a good role model for your daughter. Don’t hide behind a man who speaks for you.

My daughter is at that wonderful stage where she talks nonstop, but most of it is nonsense babbling. Real words, however, seem to find their way out of her mouth at random times, and sometimes in random arrangements. I am curious just how much she really understands about what she’s saying.

Two days ago, we reached a new milestone: the first sentence. It was while we were in the car:

Cordy: (holding hands palm up and out to the side) Where?
Me: Where what?
Cordy: Where go?
Me: We’re going to Miss Lisa’s house, and you’ll get to see Ben.
Cordy: Oh no!

We repeated this entire conversation, word-for-word, three times before we arrived. I don’t think she meant the “Oh no!” since she was happy when we got there. But it was interesting to actually have a full conversation with her.

She’s also still in the “no” phase. If you ask her a question, the response is “no” 90% of the time. It’s done nothing but teach me to not ask her questions, because the response is entirely unreliable:

Me: Cordy, do you want a banana?
Cordy: No.
Me: OK then.
Cordy: Waaaa! (now upset that I’ve mentioned banana, but not produced one for her to eat)
Me: (getting banana and offering it to her) You need to say yes when you want the banana. Now, do you want to eat a banana?
Cordy: (as she takes a bite) No.

But of all the things we hear from her, the oddest phrase came from her tonight:

Me: I think it’s time to get you ready for bed, Cordy.
Cordy: abwabenu I’ll kill you nebrunentos.
(stunned silence)
Me: Did you hear what I just heard?
Aaron: I think I did.
Me: Did she just say I’ll kill you?
Aaron: That’s what I heard.

Maybe it was just nonsense babble that we interpreted as “I’ll kill you”. Maybe she really didn’t want to go to bed. Who knows? I have no idea where she would have even learned those words, since we don’t say that, and her TV time is strictly supervised.

And then right before bed, she climbed into Aaron’s lap and said “Kiss me”. Again, stunned looks from both of us.

If she starts spouting political theory or biblical passages tomorrow, I’m calling in an exorcist. Just to be safe.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves…