After one week in a hotel, our 2-year-old now screams “fry-fry” whenever he sees a giant yellow “M” or a drive-thru window. Coming home to an empty fridge today was depressing. Not having to cook is fun, but not when your choices are limited to fast food. We did get one tasty meal in a sit down restaurant on Saturday night, but the rest of the week just felt like a greasy, fried blur. I am not joking when I tell the children that as soon as they can drive, I will never, ever eat at the golden arches again. Of course I’m not talking bad about you, Chic-Fil-A. We’re BFF.