Me vs. The McDonald's Cashier

    Normally, I buy the four piece chicken McNugget for one dollar and
some change. Four pieces is enough. A dollar and some change is
reasonable. But Alden decides to say:
     "I want five pieces".
     Well, that creates a problem now, doesn't it? A six piece costs
about three times as much as a four piece. Best way to go is to get
two four pieces and get me in on that golden brown chickeny goodness
to go with my McRib. Alright, thought process concluded, open mouth to
speak--
     "Your can get a kid's meal with a six piece and it comes with a Ninja Turtle!"
Why, thank you, little miss pimple faced teenage cash register person!
I had no idea that the five thousand dollar kid's meal was an option!
Please accept this tidal wave of gratitude, which gushes forth in
appreciation of your keen observation!
     "Ninja Turtle?" Alden says, happier than he's been in days. He wants
to live with mommy because she doesn't make him go to school and he
has five gajillion toys that he has to leave there because spoiling
him on Christmas is more important than paying child support. 
    "TEENAGE MUTANT Ninja Turtle?"
     "Uh huh!" says Suzy Zitface, no, Paula Pimple. Yeah. Paula Pimple.
On one had, I have some respect for her. This kid, half my age,
totally out ninja-ed me. She saw a weak point, outflanked me, struck
first, struck hard, no mercy, SIR! By using the tools (Alden and the
promise of turtles) available to her, she effectively boosted the
revenue from this particular point of sale by a factor of 3. The only
loss to the company is an envelope of fries, a juice box, and a
package of magic apple slices that never turn brown and taste like
cancer. Oh, and a Ninja Turtle.
     On the other hand, fuck you!
     On the other other hand, Ninja Turtle! I'm stoked, really. Of all the nerdy things I've introduced Alden to, the Turtles aren't one of them. He totally picked it up in daycare. He wants to be Donatello next Halloween. In the near future, I can discuss with him the superior source material and how Eastman and Laird didn't need different colored headbands to distinguish between the turtles and--
     "Yeah, okay," I said, soundly defeated by this corporate padawan.
So, we sit down to eat. There are distractions. It has a playplace. Alden makes a new friend named Gabriel. We both totally forget about the ninja Turtle in the bag. I get lost in McRib heaven for a while (yes, I know what's in a McRib. Shut up. I KNOW! SHUT UP!)
Oh yeah. The Ninja Turtle. Wonder if he got Donatello...
This... This isn't a ninja. It's not teenaged. It's no kind of mutant. It has no turtle like features at all. Unless there was some plot twist in the latest TMNT cartoon episode that involved all the turtles being remutated into fucking BALLS with glitter on them, there was no way in Satan's Blue Hell that this was a goddamned TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLE!
     "Daddy?"
     "Yes, Alden?"
     "Who's your favorite turtle?"
     "Raphael."
     "Is that Raphael?"
     "No, buddy. This is a ball... With glitter on it."
     "Oh," Alden says with a tone of disappointment that sometimes creeps out when he knows for sure that, for example, there will be no more My Little Pony tonight, for reals this time. Shakespeare himself would have a hard time explaining just how such a sound could injure one's heart. "Is it Donatello?"
     Hey, honest mistake, right? She must have grabbed a toy from the girl toy bin and thrown it in the bag. This is easily fixed, right?
     Now, I don't quite recall actually walking up to the counter, but I must have. Because I was there... And so was she. My nemesis. Standing there, with her acne and her taunting youth. And there I was, with my wasted life potential and deep feelings of inadequacy as a single parent, living in my Grandmother's basement, hoping the University would just pull the fucking trigger and hire me so I can get insurance and get this thing taken care of before it becomes an ulcer again or I get so nervous that I somehow blow it because THAT IS WHAT I DO!
     "Hi. Um, I'm sorry to bother you... Not a turtle."
     "I'm sorry?"
     "This toy," I say, cool as cucumber, holding the glitter encrusted ball as if my life would not greatly improve if it were replaced with something greener with ninja weapons. "It's not a Ninja Turtle."
     "No, it's not," says Alden, helpfully.
     "Oh!" says what's-her-face. "I'm sorry! That's a girl's toy. Here, I'll get one of the boys' toys."
     "Ninja Turtle."
     Then she looks in the bin of boys' toys. I see it's full of glitter balls. There's a flurry of activity. Suddenly, everyone's looking for that box of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that came in today.
So I go to my happy place. I remind myself that I'm a pacifist and that appearing on Youtube going apeshit on some kid would reflect poorly on me and insult my family's honor or some shit like that.
     "Y'all lookin for turtles?" pipes in some manager lady who's sitting in the dining room doing paperwork. "We outta them!"
     "Are you sure?"
     "Yeah, I'm sure!"
     "Wait!" says the bane of my existence. She dashes into the back. Maybe she stashed one back there for her little pimple faced brother. Maybe the turtles are such a hot commodity that she's stealing them and selling them on the black market and she's decided that parting with one would be worth it to prevent me from flipping out. Either way, my hopes rise. Alden looks like he's keeping his expectations realistic, though.
     Everyone's looking at me... It must be my hat.
When she reappears, she's holding something that is not a glittery ball and I do see green.
     "What's that?"
     "I don't know," she said. "It shoots balls or something."
     It's a thing that you talk into and it changes your voice with a spring inside. It's from the movie "Megamind", which I did not like.
     "I appreciate the effort," I say as I hand the not turtle to Alden. 

     He seemed fine with it.