Mom De Plume: "I've seen Hell and it goes by the name of Chuck E. Cheese."
Within two minutes of visiting Chuck E. Cheese for the first time there were tears. Not my toddler's. Mine.
Never in my life have I been in such a crowded filthy, loud, urine-soaked and dangerous den of iniquity -- not since riding a New York subway at rush hour.
At the moment that pimply teen door attendant stamped our hands I was calculating how to convince my toddler that we should get out of there. But it was too late. I watched in terror as my daughter ran toward a multi-colored climbing structure.
Within a second she was gone.
What I didn't realize was that the tubes connected to a labyrinth of other tubes that ran the entire ceiling of this heinous pizza parlor. The only way out, a slide at the far end. There are a few tiny little windows on the side of the tubes but they're so streaked with pizza grease you can't see though them. What's worse the opening of the maze is too small to allow an adult to go in.
I started to panic.
What if she never came down? What if she was up there crying because she can't figure out how to get out of the rat maze? Were there kids living up there - ala Lord of the Flies, faces streaked with tomato sauce as war paint starting their own civilization?
I waited, trying to figure out the best way to tell my husband I'd lost our daughter. Or if she ever did ever come out how would ever find enough Purel to decontaminate her.
I could feel the tears coming so instead of completely losing it I decided to check out the surroundings before I made that call to Missing Persons. Here's a sampling of what I saw:
What didn't I see? Attendants looking after the pandemonium. Nope, the place looked like the lunatics had taken over the asylum. And I was half hoping someone would put me in a straight jacket.
Finally when 10 long minutes had passed, I convinced an older kid to go up, find my daughter and lure her out with a piece of cheese. Just at that moment my little girl gleefully slid down the slide. Happy and laughing hysterically she ran back to the entrance of the maze and scrambled back up. I realized at that moment she was already addicted to Chuck E. Crack. Is there detox for such a thing?
Did I just get a bad taste of Chuck E. Cheese or is it truly hell on earth?
Never in my life have I been in such a crowded filthy, loud, urine-soaked and dangerous den of iniquity -- not since riding a New York subway at rush hour.
At the moment that pimply teen door attendant stamped our hands I was calculating how to convince my toddler that we should get out of there. But it was too late. I watched in terror as my daughter ran toward a multi-colored climbing structure.
Within a second she was gone.
What I didn't realize was that the tubes connected to a labyrinth of other tubes that ran the entire ceiling of this heinous pizza parlor. The only way out, a slide at the far end. There are a few tiny little windows on the side of the tubes but they're so streaked with pizza grease you can't see though them. What's worse the opening of the maze is too small to allow an adult to go in.
I started to panic.
What if she never came down? What if she was up there crying because she can't figure out how to get out of the rat maze? Were there kids living up there - ala Lord of the Flies, faces streaked with tomato sauce as war paint starting their own civilization?
I waited, trying to figure out the best way to tell my husband I'd lost our daughter. Or if she ever did ever come out how would ever find enough Purel to decontaminate her.
I could feel the tears coming so instead of completely losing it I decided to check out the surroundings before I made that call to Missing Persons. Here's a sampling of what I saw:
- A little girl sitting a motorized car, expressionless as the roadster bounced up and down - her parents nowhere in sight.
- Six boys, hanging from the "Clock Chair." A single seat "ride" that moves clockwise around the face of a clock. The weight of the mini hooligans almost toppling over the metal contraption onto some unsuspecting toddlers.
- Two moms, both looking nearly suicidal, silently drinking beer in a booth strewn with half-eaten pizzas.
- Hopped up on sugar, a small boy screaming as his mom desperately tried to explain she was out of tokens.
What didn't I see? Attendants looking after the pandemonium. Nope, the place looked like the lunatics had taken over the asylum. And I was half hoping someone would put me in a straight jacket.
Finally when 10 long minutes had passed, I convinced an older kid to go up, find my daughter and lure her out with a piece of cheese. Just at that moment my little girl gleefully slid down the slide. Happy and laughing hysterically she ran back to the entrance of the maze and scrambled back up. I realized at that moment she was already addicted to Chuck E. Crack. Is there detox for such a thing?
Did I just get a bad taste of Chuck E. Cheese or is it truly hell on earth?
|
previous:
Woman Files Suit Against Casey Anthony
|
filed under: kid
Email37 comments so far | Post a comment now >>
 |
||||
 |
||||
|
||||
 |
||||
|
advertisement
|
||||
|
||||
 |
||||
 |
||||
|
||||
 |
||||
The Momlogic Community
Comment Page: << 1 2 >>