But I’m trapped in a bit of a podcasting / uploading / embedding maze.

Seriously. I just broke a sweat trying to figure this whole thing out.

But I’ll get it. I will. Because I am as stubborn as the livelong day.

And crazy, to boot.

I am happy to announce that after eight months of fighting with cable internet service that is super-duper fast as long as no one else in our neighborhood happens to be using it at the same time, which, let’s face it, NEVER HAPPENS, we finally have DSL again.

And as a result of our return to steady, reliable connection speeds, my email address has changed.

I’ll change it in the sidebar just as soon as I post this, but for those of you who don’t email me using the link in the sidebar, you may want to make a note in your address book or contacts folder or on a random slip of paper that also contains a partial grocery list, a recipe for roasted chicken, and the time and date of your next dental appointment.

It’s boomama205ATbellsouthDOTnet.

I would not recommend spelling out “at” and “dot” if you use the email address. Because then it won’t work.

In which case we will not be able to communicate very effectively.

There was actually a secondary plot line that unfolded during our recent trip to McDonald’s, but I didn’t write about it at the time because I believe deep down in my soul that a sausage patty should always receive blogging priority.

I mean, wouldn’t you agree that fried pork trumps, well, everything?

So D, Alex and I were enjoying our Saturday morning breakfast when a guy walked in McD’s with his two young sons who looked to be about five and three. The sweet daddy had his hands full, no doubt about it, and I say that because at one point he had to abandon ordering their food so that he could chase down the older boy who apparently had sensed a window of opportunity and made a break for the playground.

Meanwhile, there was a woman sitting a couple of tables away from us, and it only took us a few minutes to figure out that She Meant Business in regards to her McDonald’s visit. She had her purse, keys and cell phone lined up on one side of the table and a stack of newspapers on the other. She sipped coffee as she worked not one but two crossword puzzles, and every time there was the slightest unexpected noise – like a fryer beeping or a door slamming – she looked up from her crossword puzzle and glowered in the direction of the interruption.

As the man with the two boys made his way back to the counter after physically removing his older child from the playground doorframe, he started trying to place his order again, but something – who knows what – sent his younger child into an absolute tantrum. The child was wailing at the top of his lungs, and I really wasn’t paying much attention because if motherhood has given me anything, it’s the ability to almost completely block out high-pitched screaming. I did notice the father trying to calm down his son, but the boy would have nothing to do with calm. It was a full-on breakdown.

After about thirty seconds of listening to the little boy’s screaming, the woman with the crossword puzzles slammed down her pencil, turned her head in the direction of the outburst and said, in a surprisingly harsh tone, “NOW THAT! IS JUST! COMPLETELY! UNCALLED FOR!”

And then she looked at D and me like she wanted us to second the motion.

Little did she know that, as someone who has watched her child SLAP A COMPLETE STRANGER in the paper plate aisle of Party City, I’m not really in a position to cast temper-tantrum stones. Sometimes kids have meltdowns. And my heart was with that daddy who was trying to convince his three year-old to pull it together.

After about a minute, the little boy finally regained his composure, and the daddy took both boys outside to enjoy their breakfast on the playground. He probably thought he’d be a little safer from Crossword Lady’s glares if they had a wall between them. Can’t say that I blamed him.

Because I can’t help but think if that lady was looking for a serene place where she could work her crossword puzzles on a balmy summer morning, McDonald’s might not be her best bet. Odds are that an eating establishment with lots of young children and stacks of pancakes with syrup and a large assortment of sugar-laden beverages is not really an ideal location for some quiet puzzle-solving time.

Maybe it’s just me, but I have a little theory that the next time Crossword Lady really wants to concentrate on the solution to 45 across, she might want to find her a table at, oh, THE LIBRARY.

I hear it’s super quiet there.

Perhaps this is because they do not serve Coke from a fountain, nor do they have milkshakes.

And also: they do not have a playground.