A few weeks ago hubby and I were well and truly trollied after a jolly night out in Prague. We were stumbling our way home, and wobbled past McDonald’s. In my tipsy haze the golden arches called out to me and I decided that this would be the perfect time to indulge in my annual Maccy D’s. I only allow myself one per year as I know it could otherwise be a slippery slope to being fork-lifted out of my trailer in order to have a gastric band fitted.
As I tucked into my supersized Big Mac meal (why do these things by halves?) I offered hubby a chip – a french fry for any American followers. As he ate it, hubby’s eyes grew wide and as he reached for another he half said, half masticated “These are really good“. It was then that I realised that despite the fact that he is over 30, hubby had never eaten a McDonald’s french fry before.
How is this possible?
Hubby will put this down to our different upbringings. Mine was urban. I hardly grew up on the set of Grange Hill or Annie but I was allowed to get the underground alone when I was a teenager, have pierced ears, watch Eastenders, eat McDonalds and drink Archers straight from the bottle outside Finchley Lido Cinema. Actually, I’m not sure I was “allowed” to do the last one, but I “had a friend who did”. It’s a wonder I didn’t end up like Amy Winehouse. Although this was of course in the pre Supersize Me days before Morgan Spurlock ruined it for everyone and made giving kids a McDonald’s Happy Meal seem like a grotesque form of child abuse.
In contrast, hubby grew up somewhere very rural and seems to have spent a lot of time pootling around the countryside on a bicycle, playing lots of sport and not talking to terrifying girls like me, who may have corrupted his otherwise innocent childhood.
Some may say hubby’s is the ideal, but I actually think his was a misspent youth. After all, you can spend the whole of your adult like doing nice wholesome things like riding a bike and going to garden centres, but once you’re grown up it’s really not acceptable to drink Archers straight from the bottle.
Fortunately, it’s never too late for your first French fry. Since that happy evening, I have also introduced hubby to Birdseye Fish Fingers and Alphabites. I will just try to keep him off the Archers.