McCure-All

On the way to piano this morning, I turned on FM 100 for an infusion of musical Christmas cheer.  Gene Autry was singing Here Comes Santa Claus, but Xanthe wanted "that song about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."  We went through a lengthy and aggravating discussion about how I don't have any control over what they play on the radio and how it's different than listening to a CD, and how we can't just choose Rudolph anytime, and how we just have to listen to what comes on.

The next song was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Xanthe said, "See, Mom?  That's what I meant!!"  She must think I'm either an idiot or a liar.  After Rudolph ended, I didn't have the stamina to explain why we couldn't listen to it again.  And that's how Xanthe got McDonald's for breakfast.  Only a big dose of salty grease from McDonald's can divert a kid's attention so effectively.  One day, Freestone really wanted "a McDouble plain."  I tried to convince him that a Wendy's hamburger was just the same but he told me, "It's not the same at all."  I asked him what the difference was and he said, as if it was so obvious, "The Mc."

Gotta love the "Mc!"  If I have to explain the radio vs. a CD one more time, I might have to get myself a large McCoke!