Dinner with Madre

My parents seldom — nay, never — travel. In fact, it's a wonder I've made good on my wanderlust, when you consider how averse my family is to wandering too far from home (our longest trip was five hours from home by car... once, when I was four).

But I digress.

In honor of their 40th wedding anniversary, my sister and I scraped together what we could to help my parents take another road trip (they refused to fly) — this time three states and nine hours away "in the mountains."

We paid for their hotel, their gas, and I believe we even gave them more than enough money to eat decent meals two times a day (breakfast was provided at their hotel). We bought an atlas; road maps; printed directions (thanks, Mapquest); and also presented them with a Visitor's Guide, underscoring cool places to dine.

So imagine my chagrin when my mother revealed to me not only that she and my father had cooked "Healthy Choice" dinners in the microwave one night, but also other related disagreements they had in regards to food choices.

And, I swear to God, here's what she said next:

Your dad wanted to go to Arby's, but I told him I wanted something with more substance than that. I mean, we're on vacation. So we drove around town a little more and ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken.

When I asked if KFC was also at my father's discretion, she made it quite clear that she loved KFC and that it does, indeed, have more "substance" than Arby's.

But, anyway, if there's one lesson my sister and I learned, it's this:

If we ever do this again, we're making sure their hotel room does NOT have a microwave. And rather than cash or a prepaid Visa, we'll just give them gift cards to specific restaurants.

Maybe even something fancy, like Long John Silvers.