pretty_young_woman.gif Au Pair and fast food (very!)
One day, back in 1978, my boss entered my office and made a strange request. "Would you and your dear wife consider taking on an Au Pair for twelve months?"

His face looking pained as he asked.

My immediate response was "I'm not keen Colin. We've got a lot on our plate right now. What with her indoors being pregnant and our new house and all."

"Well she's 23 and the daughter of one of our European partner directors. Here's her photo." Pushing a Kodak 35mm colour print under my nose.

"Fine, yes. She can come tomorrow. Where do I pick her up? Sorry I'll rephrase that, when and where does she land? I'll be there. Wearing a pink Carnation."

And so it came to pass.

Fräulein Petra (I'll call her that because it was her name) duly landed about a month later at Gatwick. Wokes look away now! Stunningly pretty, wearing a big grin and charming. Even insisting she carry her own suitcase.

Petra was truly lovely. Gleefully volunteering to help with chores, constantly chatting, never leaving our house without permission and always offering a full itinerary of her comings and goings. Eating like a horse.

Petra was as skinny as a rake. However putting a full new packet of Kellogg's Cornflakes in front of her at the breakfast table, along with a pint and a half jug of milk and she clearly thought the whole lot were provided just for her. We didn't mind. We didn't even comment. It can sometimes be difficult enunciating a response when in shock. Petra was though still a growing girl. Wokes again look away now! Growing in all the right places.

My wife and I were determined to show dear Petra the best and most beautiful parts of the UK in her short stay. And she gratefully lapped it all up.

We even took her to a McDonald's as well one day, in Norwich or somewhere the like.

"What would you like to order Petra?"

"Oh, just two Big Macs, with cheese and extra fries on the side. Plus a Coke. Oh, and strawberry ice cream. Please!"

"You've been to a McDonald's before then Petra."

"Yes. Lots and lots of times."

I duly made a mental note, for future reference.

Later in the year, at summer time, I said "Petra, would you like to see the Scottish Highlands? It's a spectacular part of the UK. Extraordinarily beautiful countryside and the locals are lovely. Kind and polite people." As an afterthought I threw in. "The food is good too."

Petra's reply was the German equivalent of "Whoopee!". So a date was set and hotel rooms booked.

The nine hour route from our home county of Norfolk up to Fort William takes on, in part, driving north up the long A1M motorway. The usual 'pit stop' Motorway Services every forty or fifty miles. Billboards along the route advertise Service area facilities ahead. Sometimes advertising restaurants and so forth.

Somewhere, around a third of the way up our stretch of the motorway, by the exit for Doncaster a sign on the left announced a McDonald's restaurant ahead.

As we approached the exit, tanking on at the customary 75mph, I yelled at Petra sat in the back seat "Gosh Petra did you see those odd looking cows in the field over to the right?"

"No Chris, I didn't see any cows. But I did see we just missed another McDonald's!"

Bless dear, sweet Petra. I hope she had, is having a good life, now at 70.

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