I luv me them Filet-o-Fish

I realized today as I drove down Bluemound Road and passed the neighborhood McDonald's that was robbed two weeks ago at gunpoint when the store opened at 4:30 a.m. that I miss Filet-o-Fish sandwiches.

Just seeing that scrolling sign screaming 2 for $3 made me drool. I can practically taste the salty tartar sauce and feel the congealed cheese slices stick to the roof of my mouth when I think about them.

It's been two lenten seasons since I last had those piping hot, breaded pollock slabs. I loved the 2/$3 special. I remember jamming the sandwiches in my mouth as I drove so that by the time I got to the next McD's I could buy another couple. I'd could eat six in a day. Okay, not all at once. But two for lunch, plus two for a snack on my way to buy two for dinner.

I suppose I don't miss the grease stains on the front my blouses or the oil streaks on my car's upholstery from oozing sauce and hot splatters. And, I can honestly say, I don't miss the 150+ pounds that resulted from pigfest rampages caused by seasonal sales on fast food.

Don't worry. I'm not going to eat any this year. It's been 19 months since I ate fast food. I even sat in a McDonald's playland for 2 hours on Sunday and never swiped a fry. I want to be able to say, some day, that I haven't eaten at (or from) a McDonald's in five years. I'd rather have the sweetness of that success coming from my tongue than the fat and calories of my beloved Filet-o-Fish on the tip of it.