Phyllis morris hailed a cab and bundled her children, Phyllis junior, aged six, and Robert, aged eight, into the back seat. "To the McDonald's on 34th and 8th", she panted "and step on it!" As the cab jerked forward on that cool New York afternoon in 2003, Dr Morris little suspected that her journey would end, not in a well-lit burger outlet, but in the textbooks that would teach young Americans the history of their country's splendid legal system. As the blocks flew past, Dr Morris told herself that a simple, green tossed salad would suffice for her lunch. Only her children's whining for fast food, she reminded herself, had drawn her away from her well-stocked kitchen. But as the cab drew to a halt, the truth hit her with a nauseating thud. If she entered those swinging doors, all thoughts of salad would fly from her mind. She would order a super-sized Big Mac, an extra-large portion of French fries and possibly a full-calorie Coke.
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