I woke up on Friday with a list going through my brain. Tomorrow would be my book signing. Today would be errands – Post Office, Target, Lowe’s, Costco. It was going to be a run-around day. By the time I crossed the first two places off of my list, I knew I needed to get lunch before braving Costco. You can’t always depend on those samples to see you through.

Since my obsession with Chick-fil-A (click here for an explanation), I have been very neglectful of McDonald’s. And, seeing as it’s right across the street from Lowe’s and Costco, and since I had heard that Snoopy is in the Happy Meal, I stopped in.

At this point I need to tell you our family secret and our great family shame. Please raise your right hand and promise not to tell anyone. When the kids were growing up, I was obsessed with McDonald’s and their Happy Meal toys. When I say obsessed this is what I mean. Every Friday we would go to McDonald’s for lunch. I would get the kids and me a happy meal and I would save mine in the wrapper/box; therefore, deeming it NRFB (never removed from box). This is very important in the collectible world. I also had an inventory sheet to keep things orderly. And, yes, those toys are collectible. No, I have never met anyone else who collected them, but I’ve never met an astronaut either and I know they exist.

The way this used to work was, every week a new toy in the series would be introduced. In order to get the entire set, my first question to the drive-through employee was always the same – which toy is in your happy meal today? If we already had that one, I would go to the next McDonald’s despite any protests from the backseat about being ready to faint from hunger. I am still convinced that my kids are grateful for my thoroughness in this area and that, despite what they say, I never embarrassed them in any way. Not even when one of the toys had a weird little, almost unnoticeable mark on it; and I insisted on exchanging it for a pristine one, an act that was recorded by my eldest son as a writing assignment when he was in middle school. I’m pretty sure the teacher thought he was exaggerating for effect. (He wasn’t.)

Anyway, once in a while, the feeling comes over me again and I buy a Happy Meal. I think about my kids and how excited they were every Friday. I think about my husband and how much he loves/puts up with me. And I think about the enormous bins full of NRFB toys in our closet which I turned into treasure chests for my grandchildren after the collectible market collapsed in the early 2000s.

This brings me to Friday. I asked the employee which Snoopy was in the Happy Meal. I don’t know why. I guess it was out of habit. It wasn’t like I was trying to fill in my collection. (Honest!) I didn’t even know how Snoopy was being depicted, but I love Snoopy. He told me Detective Snoopy, and I was happy.

Until…

I pulled into Lowe’s parking lot and looked in the bag. It was not Detective Snoopy! Uh oh!

It was better than that. (Whew!) It was Famous Author Snoopy. I ripped the bag open and set him on my dashboard. Even though he had a little scratch on his nose, I decided not to take him back. It’s okay, Snoopy. I’m not perfect either. From one famous(er than before) author to another, thanks for the inspiration on this day before my first book signing. I will take you with me tomorrow for all to see that we two are famous author friends.

Tune in tomorrow for Part II of my adventures at my book signing with Snoopy and another character who seemed more fictitious than she really was.