Chuck E. Cheese

It was a bitter, cold Saturday morning.  Danielle called, and we surveyed our options for our stir-crazy children.  All signs pointed toward the only place where a Kid Can Be a Kid on such a morning. 

It was a true rite of passage, for me and for James.  I had mixed feelings about it.  James did not.

(If it seems strange that I'd never been to Chuck E. Cheese, even as a child, note:  the first chain restaurant, Subway, came to my hometown shortly after THE stoplight was installed.  I was in sixth grade.  And yes, perhaps ironically, I celebrated a birthday there.  My mom had my friends surprise me, and I was beside myself.  Subway? You mean it??  I happily rang in my 11th year of life over a cold cut combo.  Chuck E. Cheese didn't exist in my universe.)

We started with a classic.  Whack-a-Mole.

James found a more efficient way to get the job done.

When the time ran out, the balls collected behind a holding bar under the basket.  James, seeing no need to waste another token, simply crawled right under to where the balls were kept.

His friend Mason encountered a similar dilemma when his time ran out.  Equally reluctant to squander another token, he enlisted James' help in retrieving the balls.





James had his eye on this ride all morning.  A screen simulation of a roller coaster.  But he got a bit spooked when the seat started moving and made me hop on with him.  After nearly losing my breakfast on the first lurch, I kept my eyes closed and prayed it would end soon.  James (we) rode it two more times, until, mercifully, another kid showed up wanting a turn.