After my First Communion, my family went out to celebrate. At McDonald’s.
McDonald’s! How awesome was that? It had to be a pretty special occasion to celebrate at McDonald’s.
Not only was McDonald’s the only fast food restaurant in the area, it was the only restaurant where I can remember eating until my teen years. Going there was a rare and enormous treat.
A few years after my First Communion, I got invited to a friend’s birthday party at McDonald’s. This was mind-blowing on multiple levels. First: a birthday party? Birthdays were when you got to pick what your mom would make for dinner, you ate some cake, and received one present from your parents. What was this crazy talk about having your friends come to your birthday? And they all brought presents, too? No way!
And celebrating a birthday at McDonald’s? McDonald’s was ground too hallowed for a mere birthday celebration. McDonald’s was for big, once-in-a-lifetime deals, like the Sacraments. I’m sure I could easily imagine couples having their wedding receptions there (if they were high-class enough to meet McDonald’s standards).
Despite my misgivings, I went to the party. Hell yeah, I went! I wasn’t about to miss a precious opportunity to enjoy the gourmet offerings of that palace of delicacies.
The party was short and sweet. We had burgers, fries, and some cake. The Birthday Boy opened our modest gifts, and then we went home. It was the single birthday party experience of my childhood.
My oldest son is five. He has been the focus of three birthday parties and a guest at dozens. None of them have been at McDonald’s. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
Times have changed, leaving middle-aged bumpkins like me wondering what to make of things. McDonald’s has gone from treat to last resort. Birthday parties crowd the outside edges of our calendar.
Though it sometimes feels as though our weekends are drowning in kids’ parties, I can’t complain. To the extent that it is a problem, I’m a part of the problem. We play the party game too, and we do it without trying to make anybody eat at McDonald’s.
We think we have a lot of parties, but they have to do this five times in each of our human years. (Image: Harry Whittier Frees)
I’m all about giving my kids good childhood memories, but sometimes I worry that these automatic birthday parties will lead them to believe that watching the calendar page flip a dozen times is a superstar accomplishment. When you’re 105, it may be, but you’re 005, it’s been done by plenty of other normal folks.
Then again, opening my mouth wide and letting a priest put a dried circle of bread on my tongue wasn’t the mark of superstardom either – those wafers dissolve in your mouth; you don’t even have to chew your way to success. Yet, I got what was, at the time, the best reward I could imagine for it. And after a few more birthdays, my son will have outlived my Catholicism, so I guess I’m the last one worthy to complain about undeserved honors.
So let’s party!
Snoozing on the Sofa 
This was incredibly funny. My nephew used to be obsessed with this particular establishment, and he debated any adult immature enough to doubt its stellar cuisine. I’m just glad he never got staph from the plastic ball pit.
Let him debate all he wants. As a mature adult, you have the power of the steering wheel and you can drive the car right on by such places. Any you just might spare him an infection.
He’s 22 now, so we’ve graduated to BBQ 😀
Now he’s talkin’!
I do admire the simplicity of your childhood birthdays. It’s kind of mindblowing to see how much has changed in one generation (though I’m not quite sure if the relative frugality of your childhood birthday parties is a sign of the times or the religion you were brought up with, or perhaps both).
I personally feel kids these days are often spoiled too much (though I must say I can’t really say for sure; I’m not a parents and hardly know any parents with kids aged 0-10). It was definitely refreshing to have McDonald’s described as ‘that palace of delicacies’.
The simple nature of my childhood birthdays had to do with the times, the place where I grew up, and not least, the number of siblings who preceded me. I don’t think religion had much to do with it, although, at the time, going to McDonald’s was something of a religious experience.
haha wow this is just hillarious, im 16 and i rember not so long ago begging my parents to go to McDonalds. It still does take a huge amount of persuading… brittlant and funny blog! I would really appreciate if you could check my blog out (www.aleksandriablog.wordpress.com) , i only started it a few months ago..some things are funny some boring, some depressing 🙂 once again great blog!
I hope you convinced your parents to take you. McDonald’s is a pleasure you should be allowed to enjoy when you are young. When you get older, you may find that you can go there any time you want, but you may also find that you don’t want to go there very much.
You’ve done well on your blog. Keep at it, and it is certain to bring you rewards. Good luck!
McDonald’s: a child’s idea of gourmet food, complete with playground.
A fleeting definition of perfection.
ajajajajja…….eso es una fiesta ajajaj-….
Welcome to the party.