Leave the Toy. Take the Burger.

Earlier this week, I discovered that Burger King was bagging Snoopy toys in their kids meals alongside the 380-calorie cheeseburgers. While this humble blogger shies away from consumption of the likes of the Whopper, I have within my family people who honestly don't give a shit. My mother, for instance, eats almost as an afterthought. Despite this absentmindedness (and a recent shift towards healthier meal preparation) she's always suffered high cholesterol and blood pressure. Whereas my father stuffed his gullet with fatty meats, sugar and starch and lived 72 years, felled only by the aftereffects of cancer treatment last October. Such headscratching circumstances long ago led my mother to proclaim, "I think people can resolve to take care of their bodies all they want, but not everyone has a body that wants to listen."

It was a typical Saturday spent shopping with my mom, then, except when I offered to buy her a Burger King kids meal. Naturally, she wondered aloud why the hell a 69-year-old woman would want a goddamn fast food meal for children.

"It means lunch for you", I explained, "and a Snoopy toy for me." As I have indoctrinated every last member of my immediate family into the Snoopy Collection Army Unit 21740-23, Being For the Benefit of JJ, she instantly understood the urgency of my request and duly committed to the consumption of some unpalatable gruel to make her youngest child happy. Truly, mothers sacrifice so much. Especially mine. This is why I love her. Except when I don't. Which is never.








This booklet was on the BK counter. I like the back, which among other things encourages children to act more canine. Hey, they're already eating slop.




And here's the toy. Flying Ace. Isn't it glorious?

I hope mom doesn't get sick of kids meals every Saturday. I'm getting all eight of those toys, damnit.


Burger King Peanuts Snoopy