I mean, I appreciate that they were so enthusiastic about accommodating my no-bun request.
I was less appreciative of how ashamed I felt when I ate it.
In my defense, this is what happens when my wife travels for work and I’m left to fend like a bachelor.
Go through all the trouble of cooking (and cleaning) for one? Pshaw.
I’d much rather eat forbidden fast food — or cereal for dinner! FOR DINNER!! — like a gluttonous 8-year-old queen-for-a-day.
Before you saw that picture, obviously.