When Luc was younger, his daycare provider would take him along with his buddies to Chuck E. Cheese on his birthday. It was great for everyone concerned. The kids had a blast. Kate could rest assured they were safe and stimulated. And, best of all for me, I didn't have to go. If I had realized that Chuck E. Cheese would be considered a tradition, I might not have been so enthusiastic about all those outings because two years ago the cheese was passed to us. It is now Chris and I who have to enter the Inferno with a manic Luc.
We didn't have Chuck E. Cheese when I was a child, but Chris assures me that we both would have loved it. He reminded me of how much it was like a carnival but with security measures in place. And we do see smiling parents who seem to be reliving past birthday glory. But at this point, I'm way too old to remember a time when flashing lights, a giant Rat, loud covers of bad pop songs sung by Chuck E. Cheese mechanical children, carnival games, mediocre overpriced food and cheap toys could take me to Paradise
Wanting to get the dreaded trip out of the way, we went to Chuck E. Cheese after spending the morning playing as a family in an Improv class at the Guthrie. In retrospect, making the trip on a winter Saturday afternoon was a pretty poor decision. No sooner had we walked through the door our creative buzz dissipate. Immediately, we were pulled into a birthday party factory where kids were encouraged to be as greedy as possible. I think for many kids playing games wasn't nearly as motivating as obtaining tickets. The more tickets they possessed, the greater the chance that they could select a truly awesome trinket
such as a plastic wristwatch or a rubber snake.
About an hour into our journey, I had the overwhelming desire to dig my fingers into my ears and tear out each cochlea. But I looked around me at all the diligent parents working to make their children happy. If I forced Luc to leave before he could exhaust his greed, overwhelm his senses and tap into his bloodlust, I would be relegated to the circle of hell reserved for bad moms. (Though I probably have made enough bad decisions already to assure my place there)
When Luc finally released us from our torments and agreed to claim his prize and go, he smiled and said, "This was heaven. I can't wait until next year. " As the employee used her scanner to ensure that what I'm sure was a 666 branded on our hands was still there, Chris and I just looked at each other and hung our heads.
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I don't know how I ever came across your, uhhhh.... blog? This is a blog, right? Anyway, I just love it! My experiences in motherhood are so similar, yet completely different. I too, had the same analytical take on how I thought things would be, just from a different angle. One thing I have learned very well is to never underestimate the power of nature (over nurture). You cannot "mold" your baby into who you want them to be. You can certainly make the best of who they are, though. If you are creative enough, and take the time to put some thought into it, you can take a seemingly undesirable trait and turn it into something positive. I mean, the world will always have room for salesmen and politician's, right? :) Bobbie
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