Judge Me All You Want, But I Absolutely Adore Fast Food

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You can often find me any day of the week parked in front of a local McDonald’s, savoring a large Diet Coke like it’s the finest vintage wine. I anticipate this moment daily, as some do their morning coffee or, let’s be real, their hot date nights. It’s a refreshing delight that provides the caffeine kick I crave to kick off my day. The moment those fizzy bubbles hit the back of my throat, it’s pure ecstasy. Seriously, there’s a reason their soda is so irresistible! The ideal blend of temperature and syrup-to-water ratio keeps many of us coming back for more, even if we won’t openly admit it. And don’t even get me started on the superior McDonald’s straw!

I just refilled mine three times today, and I’m not even sorry. Yes, I proudly declare: I love McDonald’s, and I’m not hiding it! I get that admitting a fondness for fast food isn’t exactly on-trend. It’s more fashionable to brag about shopping at Whole Foods after yoga (which I do too, mind you), but I’m just being real. My family enjoys wholesome, nutritious meals most days, but those occasional fast-food nights? They’re a guilty pleasure I fully embrace.

I adore the fact that I can grab a soda (always large, let’s be honest) for just a dollar. I love surprising my kids with a drive-thru dinner on hectic evenings, and their excitement rivals that of a home-cooked meal that takes ages to prepare. The moment you step inside, the air is filled with the heavenly scent of McDonald’s fries. I have no shame in admitting that.

Those moments of solitude spent in my car, diving into that brown paper bag and devouring fries two (okay, five) at a time, are like mini-dates with myself. Just $6 for a delightful moment alone? Sign me up! Once, I even took my stash of fried goodness to a nail salon, and the receptionist was so enchanted by the aroma that she dashed to the nearest McDonald’s for her own meal, returning to share her joy with me. We clinked our Diet Coke cups together in celebration—a moment of pure connection.

Growing up in the ’80s, I missed the trend of mom shaming entirely. My mom treated us to McDonald’s a couple of times each month, and we relished every bite. After long beach days, we would cool off in the air conditioning, inhaling the aroma of those salty fries. My sisters and I were always thrilled to see which toy would accompany our Happy Meal—one summer, they even came in bright plastic buckets that we used for sandcastles until they faded away.

When I’m dealing with PMS, you can bet I’m heading straight for a large fry and a chocolate shake. The friendly staff at my local McDonald’s know me so well that they toss in two cherries with my shake—now that’s what I call service! Yes, I’m aware of the ingredients in their food, and I know it’s far from organic, but I can’t deny my deep-rooted love for the place. No other restaurant can craft fries and a large soda quite like they do.

Oddly enough, whenever I’m recovering from a nasty cold, I crave a Quarter Pounder like a long-lost friend. It transforms me from feeling weak to feeling invincible. I don’t care why—I relish every greasy bite and lick my fingers clean without an ounce of guilt. You can judge me for my fast-food obsession and for letting my kids indulge too, but I won’t be giving up my McDonald’s affair anytime soon. Because Diet Coke, fries, and shakes with cherries are worth it.

Some days call for a fancy organic salad, while others demand a hefty serving of greasy goodness—always with a Diet Coke, of course.

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In summary, while some days might call for kale, I’ll always have a soft spot for fast food, and I’m absolutely okay with that.

Keyphrase: Fast food love

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