Chronicles of a Single Mom #10 – The Master of Chuck E. Cheese

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I recently had the honor of attending a birthday party for a wonderful little boy turning three.
As parents, we all know that visiting the land of cheesy fun can be a bit difficult during certain times of the week. By difficult I mean downright hazardous to your nerves, peace of mind and overall sanity.
I held on to this belief for years. This place filled of little petri dishes with legs, arms, sugar and devoid of Kleenex.
A few years back, I tried to bring my kid to a party again. Much bigger Chuck E. Cheese but a small gathering.
She ended up running (Think FloJo in her prime running) out of the building when the big-headed mouse came to visit the table.
After that I was done. Content to send a card or gift in the mail rather than wrestle with a child among hundreds of other children.
Until last week.
With a warning as to what would happen if there were any shenanigans similar to the ones from previous years, we entered the building.
Apparently, my friend had figured out something that I hadn’t realized in years past – the later you go, the less packed it is. Alas, it would seem she knew the secret to an enjoyable Chuck E. Cheese visit.
There were no kids climbing over each other. The shrill screams of the day had died down and there wasn’t the issue of having to wait in line to play games.
You didn’t bump into people, step in gum or sit on cake. You didn’t have to listen to someone else’s conversation about how little Billy’s unexplained rash is clearing up and there was plenty of seating near the arcade so you could actually sit AND watch your child.
It was actually fun.
Of course it was a birthday party so it would’ve been fun anyway but the overall experience was enjoyable. My 9-year-old didn’t even run from the big mouse.
She didn’t go up to it either but any progress is a good progress.
We played for hours, winning tickets and burning off some energy and stress after a long work/school week. I even played against other random children. Apparently, adults are supposed to let the children win. I disagree and think I would be robbing them of an opportunity to learn the life skill of getting back up after a failure at an early age.
I saw an old classmate, met their child and talked to other parents who were able to hear themselves think in a what would be a normally chaotic place.
While it might not be your ideal Friday night, I enjoyed myself.
So much so I may even do it again.
Maybe.
I’m Just Saying.

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