(fill in the blank) Night at McDonald’s

I was originally going to title this post Redneck Night at McDonald’s.

But the all-knowing Oracle Google told me that redneck is a disparaging term, implying negative stereotypical traits such as ignorance and narrow-mindedness.

It isn’t my intent to offend anyone. And besides, according to Jeff Foxworthy, there’s a little redneck in all of us.

But I digress.

Not wanting to offend, I checked the Oracle Google’s database of synonyms for redneck.

hillbilly boor bumpkin clodhopper farmer hayseed rube rustic

yokel backwoodsman/woman cornfed country boy/girl country cousin countryman/woman good old boy local yokel

None of those words are what I’m trying to convey, either.

So I’ll just describe what went on. And let you make your own assumptions.

There were really just two families in the McDonald’s playground who made me cringe, over and over.

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The Loud-Angry Family

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The first was what The Rock and I took to calling the Loud-Angry family. Mr. and Mrs. Loud-Angry and their 18 to 20ish -year-old daughter. All yelling at each other. And very angry.

The worst part was the little toddler boy, who was apparently the daughter’s child. Mrs. Loud-Angry/Grandma was in charge of this sweet little tow-headed darling. Because his mother said he was “a big pain.”

Apparently Grandma thought so, too, because she didn’t say a kind word in a normal decibel to this little boy the whole time they were there.

I resisted the urge to slap them both with my Big Mac. It wasn’t easy, but I managed.

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The (fill in the blank) Family

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Then there was the (fill in the blank) family.

I won’t describe mom’s and dad’s physical appearance because, like most civilized people, I was taught if you don”t have something nice to say, keep your yapper shut. I take that to also mean when you’re yapping through a keyboard.

But it was the appearance of their one year old that almost made me gag. Cute little guy. Not his fault who he got for parents.

Wearing nothing but a onesie, the little dude’s diaper was so full that the onesie could no longer contain it. As he waddled all over the playground, his swollen-far-past-maximum-capacity Huggie protruded out of one leg opening like a giant, horrendous white hernia.

The Rock and I watched in horror as the Huggie hernia grew larger. And squishier. And sagged lower and lower. I swear by the time the (fill in the blank) family left it was down to his ankles.

The little guy’s onesie was soaked from the waist down, trying valiantly to absorb the overflowing leakage. How can parents not be aware of this? How can they not care?

The worst part was that this little boy knew how to climb all over the play equipment. The same play equipment Pebbles’ hands were climbing all over.

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This was the first time I’ve ever known the McDonald’s mop lady to come into the playground and mop the whole place down with bleach. Lots of bleach. While people were still there. Eating.

We were grateful. To say the least.

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