My mother drove my brother and me around, looking for things to do, like mini-golf, go-carts. It was one of those shitty days, where it's kind of raining/kind of not.
Running out of things to do, my mother began just suggesting things that would never really interest us, at all. My mother used to take us to Cape Cod by herself to get away from my father sometimes. Even when my mom and dad did go to the Cape together, they usually kept their distance.
We decided to get dinner at McDonald's, which is something that happens very rarely. Mom suggested I get a "quarter pounder with cheese," the epitome of all that is disgusting at McDonald's.
I got it. I ate it. And driving in the car my mother offered to take us for ice cream afterwards, and I thought of all the money she'd spent on us that day, the vacation we were on, where my father was, and what I'd just ate, and I said no, because I felt sick. That was the first time I said that without my stomach actually hurting.