You’ll often find me parked outside a McDonald’s, enjoying a large Diet Coke with all the enthusiasm of someone anticipating their morning java or, dare I say, an exciting rendezvous. It’s a daily ritual that brings me joy, refreshment, and that necessary caffeine lift to kick off my day. The moment those fizzy bubbles hit my throat, it’s sheer happiness. There’s a reason their soda is so delicious—the ideal temperature and just-right syrup-to-water blend has a way of making everyone, whether they admit it or not, crave more once their cup is empty. It’s a global sensation, really, as McDonald’s seems to have perfected the art of fizzy drinks. Even their straws are a cut above the rest! In fact, I refilled mine three times just today.
So there it is: I absolutely adore McDonald’s, and I’m not shy about it. Sure, it’s not fashionable to confess a fondness for fast food; it’s far more acceptable to brag about shopping at Whole Foods post-yoga (which I do as well), but I’m all about honesty here. I’m not concerned about what others think. My family and I usually enjoy wholesome meals, but those days when we indulge are pretty darn delightful.
I relish being able to buy a soda (of any size, but let’s be real, always large) for just a buck. I love that I can swing by the drive-thru on a hectic night and see my kids happier than when I put together a lengthy hot meal that turns into a battle to get them to finish. Walking into that place, inhaling the scent that can only be described as heavenly (because let’s face it, heaven smells like McDonald’s fries), fills me with pride—no shame whatsoever.
I cherish my moments alone in my car, digging into that brown paper bag and savoring fries two (okay, five) at a time. It’s a $6 date with myself, and I enjoy every second of it. Once, I even brought my stash of golden fried goodness to a nail salon, and the receptionist was so enchanted by the alluring aroma that she hurried off to grab her own meal, returning just to share her excitement with me. We clinked our Diet Coke cups together and said, “Cheers.” It was a moment to remember.
Growing up in the ’80s meant I missed out on the era of mom shaming. My mother often treated us to McDonald’s a couple of times a month, and we loved it. Those hot summer afternoons spent after the beach, relishing the cool air and the delightful smell of salty fries, is a cherished memory. My sisters and I looked forward to the happy meal toys, and one summer, we even got our meals in cute pink and blue buckets that we used for years at the beach.
Before our annual trip to the tree farm, we’d wake up early for breakfast at McDonald’s, indulging in pancakes dripping with syrup. And yes, when PMS strikes, you better believe I stroll in for a large order of fries paired with a chocolate shake. The friendly staff at my local McDonald’s know me so well that they throw in two cherries with my shake—now that’s what I call service!
I’m aware of what’s in their food. I understand it’s not organic. But I can’t deny my love for the place. It consistently hits the spot, and no other restaurant can replicate their fries and large sodas. Strangely enough, after I’ve been sick, I find myself craving a Quarter Pounder to revive my spirits. It transforms me from feeling drained to energized, and I’ve given up wondering why. I devour it without a hint of guilt.
Feel free to judge me for being a fast-food enthusiast and for letting my kids join in too, but I refuse to abandon my McDonald’s passion. Because, let’s face it: Diet Coke, fries, and shakes with two cherries are hard to resist. Some days call for an organic salad, and others for a generous helping of delicious, crispy indulgence—always with a Diet Coke, of course.
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In summary, I unapologetically embrace my love for McDonald’s, relishing the simple pleasures of fries and Diet Coke while enjoying precious moments of solitude and nostalgia.