French Fries and French Kisses


One time I kind of liked this guy who was a huge health nut. Anyone who knows me at all knows that my favorite hobby is to be in the kitchen, whether it’s to cook or bake OR eat what I’ve just cooked or baked. And while I try to be healthy from time to time, let’s face it: I use butter. And lots of it. And, I won’t lie, there are evenings when all I have time for is a drive thru meal. Sick. I know. So anyway, I remember one time I had a McDonald’s bag sitting in the passenger seat when I pulled up to the Health Nut’s house. I looked over and saw it and instantly went into panic mode. I crumpled that bag up into the smallest ball I could manage and stuffed it under my seat and prayed to God he didn’t decide to look for anything under the driver’s seat. Later that evening as I drove home, I began to think how ridiculous it was that I couldn’t just be myself and that I had been afraid of what he’d think if he had seen the McDonald’s bag. Silly.

One of my best friends, Sam, and her husband have what they call “buffet date nights.” Don’t let the name deceive you. Sure, sometimes they do go to one restaurant that offers a buffet, but their spin on “buffet date night” is pretty darn clever if I must say so myself. They pick one item from all of their favorite fast food joints and they go to every last one of them and get their orders to go. Then they take their bounty home and veg out in front of the TV, savoring every last bite of junk food from five or six different restaurants. And Travis never turns his nose up at Sam if she eats more fries than him or if she’s eating her fries so fast that she nearly bites her fingers off (I’m not judging. I’ve done this myself.).

That’s the kind of love I want to find. One that doesn’t care how fast I eat my fries. And one that laughs at me when I get so excited that all I can do is fist pump the air. And one that thinks my dancing is so awful but dances with me anyway. And one that laughs at all the wrong times with me, like when we’re supposed to be quiet in church. And one who thinks my corny sense of humor is funny. And one that will sing off key with me in the car. And one that gets mad when they see the McDonald’s bag in my passenger seat….NOT because they are disappointed in what I chose for dinner but because I didn’t bring them a snack, too. I want to find someone that thinks my obnoxiously loud laugh is music to their ears.
And someone who kisses me goodnight even though I ate french fries and a Meal Deal Number Four for dinner.

If this person exists, send him my way, would ya?


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