Kids' meal miracles...

While waiting at the Portland airport for our flight back to Salt Lake City, my nap-deprived, exhausted, grumpy child set out to break a world record for loudest screech produced in a public area.

Frustrated, terrified and desperate, I called Reece to whine about how tough vacation can be.

He suggested I buy Lola a Kids' Meal.

And so I did.

The chicken nuggets were a bust.  She merely used them to pelt unsuspecting travelers.

The mini Diet Coke was a hit, of course.  Though I wouldn't recommend giving your little flier a caffeinated beverage if your goal is a restful flight.

The mandarin oranges were a godsend.  She loved them so much, she tried to pass them out to people walking by.  

"No really, these things will change your life!"

But really, why does any kid ask, nay beg, for a Kids' Meal?

The toy, of course.

I owe that giant, purple, made-in-China crayon my life.
That, and the access to a window seat.