What did you say?

"Welcome to Burger King, may I take your order?"

Who would have thought such a simple question could cause a ripple in the vey fabric of time and space?

Here I am again: precocious, cherubic, eagerly awaiting my kid's meal (or more likely a full-fledged combo, as I've always displayed a rather mature appetite). I dutifully sit in the back seat, my mom and grandmother navigating us through the drive-thru of what was once one of the only fast food joints in our bedroom community. Finally, we inch forward and hear THE infamous question. Now, does Grammy order the whopper--NO tomato and NO mayo--and a Coke slush like we rehearsed? Much to my adolescent shock and awe, she busts out laughing. Apparently, the unknowing drive-thru cashier's voice came across as an unintelligible mumble, causing Grammy to break down in fits of laughter.

Now, the thing to note about my family is that one of us cannot simply laugh alone; we must laugh as a clan (this has gotten us in trouble multiples times, in such notable locations as movie theaters and church). Once my mom realized what happened, a cascade of chokes and sputters flew forth from her mouth, followed by a slew of squeaks from me back in the peanut gallery of our old van. The three of us cackled and coughed, while the poor cashier just tried to do her job. Just as we began to compose ourselves, she repeated the now infamous question, once again plunging the family into hysteria. Realizing that attempts at composure were futile, Grammy sped off; we were nevermore destined to order from the drive-thru.