A picture paints a thousand words.

Words like betrayal, disappointment and shame…

Has your child ever asked you loudly in public why that man has such a big belly or why that lady has a beard? Yes? Well then you will understand how I felt when my child brought this home from school the other day.

They do a bit of free drawing most days in school. He’s never been mad into art, rushing through using 2 or 3 colours.

But oh no. Not this time. This time he sharpened the full set of pencils in readiness. He may as well have been doing it to stab me in the heart as draw this picture.

It was in full view of his class and his teacher. At least at home I could have crumpled it up and locked him in the back garden feeding him quinoa through the keyhole until he promised never to do it again. Instead now five year olds were going home reporting young Dominic’s affinity with the McDonalds brand. (I wouldn’t be surprised if I were kicked off the Active Schools Week committee after this.)

Since the appearance of this “artwork” I made homemade baked beans with gubeen, served with veggie sausages and delicious sourdough bread. I made spelt flatbreads with olives and pesto and creme fraiche tucked inside them. He ate them all and even thanked me for delicious dinners.

Delicious beans going in the oven with a load of Gubeen cheese

I remain disgusted. Did he draw the flatbreads? No. Did he draw the beans? No he flippin’ did not. He drew a happy meal, complete with Penguins of Madagascar toy. He added a milkshake because adults can have them and an ice cream because he’s overly optimistic.

Does this soup come with a toy?

He’s been in McDonalds maybe six times in his five years on the planet. I even wrote about the first time he darkened their doors even though he only ate the soup we brought with us for him. Whatever it is they do to make kids worship at the golden arches it works. (Salt + Toys = Success) I think is the magic equation.

Joking aside, I don’t think a McDonalds every few months is going do them my kids any irreparable damage. Case in point: the flatbreads were a Happy Pear cookbook recipe. So this weekend, we’re popping down to Greystones to visit the Happy Pear in person for our lunch, on his request.

All is not lost yet. I guess I forgive him…