by Olivia Hansen
Dad was being nice by letting ME pick lunch after dance class. He said to me while driving, “Hey, Liv, where do you want to go for lunch?”
He isn’t a big fan of fast food, so I decided to take advantage of this. “Jack in the Box!” I happily yelled.
His reply was, “Sweetie, I don’t think there is a Jack in the Box here.” It didn’t come as much of a surprise to me that he was the wrong man about fast food restaurants.
I told him, “Dad, there is one around the corner.”
Dad’s very happy (that is sarcastic) reply: “Honey, if there is one around the corner, then we can go there.”
As we turned the corner, there was a big red building with Jack in the Box words across the top. I gazed at a poster of a burger in the window.
“Oh. OK. Fine. Let’s go,” Dad said and he didn’t sound happy.
In the restaurant, I ordered a double bacon burger with medium fries and a root beer. He asked to try my soda. “Yuck, it tastes like toothpaste,” he said as he thunked it on the table.
Dad’s lesson from this experience – do NOT let me pick lunch.