So on the way home last night, it was hot and I was cranky. I was thinking about what was in the freezer to cook and not very happy about the options. I considered also that the kids rarely like anything at all that's quick-made by me and I was so not into picking up groceries to whip up something divine. So, instead, I hatched the idea to bring home a good old-fashioned bucket 'o KFC.

Excitedly I pulled into the drive-thru window. We rarely indulge in fast food so I scanned the menu and settled on my chicken options and yelled into the little box.. a list of my chicken preferences and all the sides I wanted.

"We're out of chicken," the voice said in response.

"Are you serious?"

"Well," the voice said, "We can cook you some, but it will be about 18 minutes."

I peeled away.

When I got home and the starving kids looked at me with their big blue eyes... I handed Kelly a $20 bill and said, "You and your brother turn this into dinner... I'm not hungry."

They were happy enough about that and settled for Subway around the corner, which also served as lunch for them today.

And that's the end of this story.

Isn't my life exciting? But more importantly, isn't it sad about KFC?