Sixteen Cheeseburgers To Go

thSince Father’s Day is just around the corner, I’ve been thinking a great deal about my dad and what it was like growing up in our house.  And, since I spent last weekend in New Jersey, I have been flooded by memories of our summer trips as we travelled from the Garden State and headed up to Western New York to visit our grandparents.  It was an all day journey highlighted by one bright spot, our stop at McDonalds in Horseheads, NY for lunch.

Eating out was not something our family did very often.  My mother was a wonderful cook and with six growing bodies to feed, home cooking was the most economical way to keep our bellies full.  Life was also much slower then and our activities seemed to work around the dinner hour rather than interrupt it.  Fast food seemed to us to be a treat rather than a real meal.

So it was that after six or so hours of riding in a cramped station wagon with two adults, six children a cat and dog, we would see those marvelous Golden Arches and our mouths would water for those delicious burgers and fries!

It didn’t really matter what selection the menu in the shop provided because in our family, you had two choices; hamburger or cheeseburger.  It was understood that each of us would receive two sandwiches, a small fry and small drink.

One of us was chosen to be Dad’s helper, while the rest of us filed off to the restrooms.  Then we piled back into the car to eat our lunches.

It seemed like every time we stopped, Dad would chuckle as he handed out the burgers, remarking about the reaction of the cashier when he ordered his sixteen burgers, eight small fries and eight small drinks to go.  Somehow, we didn’t feel freaky because our family was larger than most, we felt special.

Now that many decades have passed since I took those car trips with my childhood family, I am in awe of both of my parents and the graceful patience they modeled (for the most part) on those long car trips.  Granted, there were hot stressful moments along the road and the usual amounts of threats to pull the car over. But mostly I marvel at these two young people, not much older than my own children are now, driving 500 miles with six kids, a dog and a cat in a station wagon with no air conditioning in the heat of summer and the fun we had eating our cheeseburgers!

Love you Dad and Mom!

 

 

 

 

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