Several years ago Braden and I started a tradition fondly titled Doughnut Friday. Doughnut Friday was born in celebration of Braden's first green week during Kindergarten. (For those of you not immersed in elementary school behavioral strategies, students are monitored like a traffic signal in steps of green, yellow, and red. Braden, who is a chatty, know-it-all, busy-body--traits that obviously don't come from his mother's DNA--lives on yellow. In hopes of positively reinforcing green week behavior, we established Doughnut Friday. As he has gotten older, Doughnut Friday has transitioned from a celebration dependent upon school behavior--primarily because Doughnut Friday would have been short-lived if based solely upon being green--to a mommy and son custom.)
When we lived in Georgia, we got our doughnuts at Publix. Braden's order: two doughnuts, usually covered in chocolate icing, occasionally with sprinkles, and a chocolate milk; mine: a Starbuck's mocha frappuccino (bottled). Here in Missouri, the doughnut selection at Mosher's is not as appetizing so Doughnut Friday became McDonald's Friday. (Yep, McDonald's trumped Mosher's doughnuts. However, this week we discovered the doughnuts at Casey's General Store; Doughnut Friday returns in all of its splendor.)
Three weeks ago, when we drove through McDonald's for breakfast, we pulled to the window to learn that the credit card machine was down. Upon learning that I had no cash--I never carry cash--the manager allowed us to leave with our breakfast, requesting that I return at a later date to settle the $14.00 tab. (Yep, you read that correctly--$14.00. Braden eats two sausage McGriddle meals by himself. Food purchases are the only thing that make me long for a daughter. Feeding a growing boy is expensive.)
Today I returned to McDonald's to take care of my much delinquent bill. When I explained my situation to the manager, not the manager on duty that morning, she kindly and discretely slid my card back across the counter to me. "Thank you for your honesty, but there's no need to worry about the bill. Have a fabulous weekend." I must have looked painfully perplexed for she nodded me toward the door with another, "Really. You can leave."
Indeed I plan to have a fabulous weekend. I hope you do, too.