I walked up to the register and stood in front of a five foot woman with wrinkled skin, silver hair, and yellow teeth. Her finger was tapping the pack of Marlboro cigarettes that sat on the counter next to her steaming cup of coffee. It must have almost been time for her break. I knew to make this quick. Her name tag read Silvia, but you could tell her favorite name to be called was Grandma.

She looked up and said, “Yes, sir, what can I get for you?”

I don’t like when people call me sir, but I wasn’t going to correct her.

No one likes to be corrected for being polite.

At least she didn’t call me buddy. 

“Yes, Ma’am, I would like one Happy Meal, please.”

300 miles earlier I started thinking about my childhood and McDonald’s and the toys that came with it. As a child I remember eating a bite of a hamburger and then running up the jungle gym and sliding down the slide before taking another bite. I hadn’t had McDonald’s in years and thought that today would be the day I’d have it again.

As I crossed the Kentucky/Indiana border I wondered if adults could order them for themselves.

Are Happy Meals just for kids?
How would they know if I wasn’t buying it for a child?
Was there a Happy Meal Officer that worked at every McDonald’s?
Would it be breaking the rules if I ordered one for myself?

Honestly, I wanted to break the rules. In my mind this wasn’t a major offense. It was minor and silly. Like, sneaking candy into the movie theater or taking two samples instead of one at Costco.

After I ordered I waited for her to ask me who the Happy Meal was.

I had my answer earlier.

“A younger version of myself,” I would have said. 

It wasn’t lying.

I was feeding my inner-child.

But she never asked.

She didn’t seem shocked or interested that I, a grown man, ordered a Happy Meal.

She was ready for her smoke break. 

She asked me what kind of Happy Meal I wanted.

I wanted to say, “the happiest!” but I read the room and knew my audience of one would not have smiled.

“Hamburger with french fries,” I said as quickly as possible.

“And to drink, sir?”

“Coke, please.”

And that was that.

As it turns out adults are allowed to order Happy Meals for themselves. 

Anyone with money can order a Happy Meal.

They do not care how old you are. 

It’s not breaking the rules. 

So, go ahead and feed your inner child.

It might just come with a toy.

About the Author

Tanner Olson is an author, poet, speaker, and podcaster living in Nashville, Tennessee.

He is the author of I’m All Over the Place, As You Go, Walk A Little Slower, and Continue: Poems and Prayers of Hope.

You can find Tanner Olson’s books on Amazon.

His podcast is The Walk A Little Slower Podcast with Tanner Olson and can be found wherever you listen to podcasts.

Tanner Olson travels around the country sharing poetry, telling stories, and delivering messages of hope.

You can follow Tanner Olson on Instagram (@writtentospeak) and Facebook where you’ll daily find encouraging words of faith and hope.