Blyth McDonalds Turns Russian

Early July of this year meant that we had our little Russian friend Kristina over to get her annual respite from the strong air pollution of Belarus post Chernobyl. As her scrawny person jumped off the organised coach opposite a Blyth church we embraced her and introduced her to some gifts - one of which was a Nike handbag that she fell in love with.

Becasue this was a sunny summer evening in Britain we were all starving so we decided to head down to our local McDonald's to get some Western tuck in the form of fries, Big Macs and a couple of Happy Meals for the kiddies.

When we arrived we couldn't help to laugh at the fact that everyone who has Russian orphans over every year decided to go to McDonald's so this little food cottage was jam packed with Russian (and English) children.

So I got Kristina and my sister Maree to a table and we decided to do the blow straws joke and fired the empty straw packets halfway across the restaurant and into somebody's ketchup. I tried blowing three in one go and it resulted in something similar to fireworks. So I laughed.

But then we got bored so we went into the Party area of McDonald's and I got the girls some colouring pages of Ronald McDonald. There weren't any wax crayons in the little plactic box thing but luckily we had already got Kristina a pack of fifty felt-tip pens.

This is when we were called over by my mam and dad to have our dinner.