In my town there is a pizza place that makes its living off of offering children's birthday parties, with pizza, video and skill games, soda, cake and ice cream. This is a small child's idea of heaven on earth. Sugar, multicolored walls, fast moving video games, those wacky tubes to crawl through, all make for a fine time for kids.
If one child decided to have a party there, it would be just fine, but multiply this activity by a factor of ten, and you have real mayhem. Kids running everywhere, lights flashing, and the sheer volume of the place gives one a headache within minutes. Add to this noise music through the PA system, interrupted every few minutes by an overly happy employee, "wishing ANGELA to have a happy 5th birthday!!!" Clearly she is happy, with the cup of video tokens she's been given to put into the skeeball machine. All her friends showed up with presents. There is the pizza, cake, and soda, inducing the endorphin rush they love so much.
The grim-faced parents endure this insanity, every few minutes checking their watches to see when the two hours of torture will be over. The parent who had their kid talk them into holding the party there (BECAUSE JIMMY HAD HIS PARTY THERE!!!) try to make the best of it by orchestrating the movement of the tokens, pizza, drinks, cake, ice cream, presents, goodie bags, etc. Because of the volume, it is difficult for parents to talk to one another, and it comes down to:
"Hi, I am Dave's Dad."
"I am Timmy's Mom."
Check the watch. Shuffle around a bit. Maybe play a video game. Watch the kids run around after one another. Shove a carboard slice of bad pizza into the gullet, and wash it down with some flat soda from a pitcher. Check the watch. The only redemption is that after two hours, the place is left behind. But in its stead is a ringing headache, with ears to match, and a child who is hopped up on carbohydrates, wondering when they can have their party at Peter Piper Pizza.
Not in a million years.
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1 comment:
I never minded those scenes. I didn't like my kids when they were babies, and I'm not warming up to them as pre-teens, but in the 3-8 year range, I loved every minute with them, even if it was loud and stupid and crazy. But, I know lots of people who think I'm insane for not loving babies. I'm sure you muddled through, though. You were always such a peaceful person.
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