My Burrito Overfloweth

While driving by some houses Lily started her mantra “a nack! a nack! a nack! a nack!”. She wants a snack and she wants it now (for those not fluent in Lily-ese). 20 minutes from the grocery barren apartment and without even a breath mint in my purse, the Carl’s Junior drive-thru was like an oasis through the snow flurries. As we drove up to the menu I was shocked to see that the six dollar burger was actually under six dollars (something we had always joked about in Maui, where said burger is $7.25) and the menu had an additional mexican food side. This was a further bonus because Lily loves beans and will eat almost anything wrapped in a hah-tee-tee (tortilla). We scanned the choices of value menus, double patty value fries with 14 taquitos, AHA! a $2 burrito! Perfect. Get it. Let’s go. Remember the mantra is sustained throughout the whole drive-thru, Carl’s Junior rediscovery experience so it was more stressful than it sounds here.
When we pulled to window #2 I thought my problems were over (I realize there are real problems and driving with a hungry two year old isn’t one of them, but right then, in the rental car, looking at horrible houses, in the snow, away from anyone I know, I felt like it qualified) but when my would-be salvation was handed through the window to me I knew something was wrong. The bag was heavy. The bag should not be heavy. I looked inside to see at least a full gallon of refried beans wrapped in a to-scale map of Salt Lake county. How am I to give this behemoth to my toddler to eat unsupervised? And perhaps more importantly (I mean, it was a rental so who really cares?), who knew you could buy a burrito the size of a Beamer for under two bucks? I was shocked (nack! nack! nack!) what was I going to (nack! nack! nack!) do? I couldn’t hand this water balloon of a burrito back to her. I could just see the beans pouring out of the bottom of the giant tortilla like a faucet onto her tiny lap. I tear off a piece of tortilla near the edge to abate the yelling and buy some time. (I WANT BIG PIECE! BRITO!) At this point I did what I can assume any mother would do. I opened the burrito, scooped out 3/4 of the beans with my fingers onto the thin plastic wrapping paper (which is on my lap), re-wrap the tortilla and give it to Lily. Then, I lick the beans of my fingers. I glance out the window to the car next to us. That’s right, Lady, I’m eating refried beans off of my lap with my pointer and middle man and I like it, AND it was under two bucks so you tell me what is wrong with that.