I Just Want a Crispy Chicken Sandwich

I must be extra hormonal these days. Adam says it's all the extra estrogen my body is producing to combat the testosterone from baby stybs (even though we don't know if it's a boy).

So today I wanted a crispy chicken sandwich from McDonald's for lunch. I had just come home from the grocery store and didn't feel like going back out, Adam was sleepy and still a little sick so he suggested ordering in- we would have extra left for dinner and I could get a fried chicken sub.

OK sounded good enough.

Then it came. It was overly steamed from being at the bottom of the bag in a styrofoam container. It was messy and didn't really taste good.

And I proceeded to cry.

I couldn't eat it. It just wasn't right.

Adam offered me his food, which I didn't want. And I wasn't really feeling hungry anymore anyway. He promised to get me a crispy chicken sandwich for dinner.

So a few hours later I start to get hungry. Adam double checks what I want, and goes to pick it up.

He comes home (with a Shamrock Shake!!!) and I take the food out of the bag. The sandwich box was upside down, and when I turn it over I see "Big Mac"

What?

I open it up just to make sure maybe they ran out of the right box and... big mac...

I start laughing hysterically. Adam is furious and is currently at McDonald's returning the sandwich.

Hopefully he comes back soon. After all I just want a crispy chicken sandwich.