Santa never failed to bring us unusual gifts. More like a hotdog stand, my Barbie McDonald's came with a brown and yellow booth, a swinging 'thank-you' garbage receptacle, brown trays, plastic versions of the Styrofoam sandwich containers, and get this- little hamburgers. They were three pieces- bottom bun, meat, and top bun. It was fun to stack them inside the containers, slapping it all on a tray next to the little box of fries.
McDonalds disgusts me now. The food is what my partner and I refer to as non-food items. You are told that the Big Mac is a hamburger, but the ingredients are so far from organic, so distant from their original sources because of preservatives, additives, artificial flavors and colors, hormones etc that there isn't a shred of nutritional value.
My Barbie Mickey D's was the hottest ticket. I was five when I got it, so my sister was just a toddler forbidden to touch the small little buns. My Barbies had McDonalds morning, noon and night. It was the only restaurant in town. They took dates there (see Barbie Made Me Gay) and their obvious anorexia posed no health risks. I haven't had McDonalds in over three years, but somewhere in my mother's basement is a box full of antique happy meal toys.
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