Hey Y'all! Sorry for the interruption. Life occasionally gets in the way of blogging. Responsibility - it blows.
Now back to our regularly scheduled programing.
So, I sold my soul to the devil, a couple of nights ago.
Yep, let me say that again. I sold my soul the devil and his name is Chuck E Cheese.
It was so attractive, so easy, at 3 am in the morning, to promise that cute little pigtailed noisemaker interrupting my REM sleep for the umpteen bagillionth time, a trip to Chuck E Cheese, if she would just quietly go the BLEEP to sleep.
What? Don't judge, yo! I'm breeding here. I NEED my beauty sleep.
I bet you didn't know that Chuck E Cheese was the devil, huh? But let's be serious, any company whose mascot is a talking RAT can't be completely on the up and up.
So a couple of days ago, The Firefighter and I donned our redneck Sunday best (aka - only gently frayed jeans with small amounts of camo and discreet holes) and rode in to meet the beast head on.
Let me tell y'all something, Chuck E Cheese has changed since my day. Granted, I haven't been there since my age was in the single digits and my ass was actually small enough fit through that tubey jungle gym thing but I do remember those stupid animatronic singing rats, skee ball, and the excitement of picking out the best craptacular penny prize.
And that's about all that is the same. Now they have virtual reality games, actual rides, make your own dance videos and automatic ticket counters. Yep, you heard me. Kids don't even have to count their own tickets anymore. Any wonder our country is currently in the crapper?
And guess what? We weren't even the worst dressed there. Surprised? Ya, me too.
People of Walmart? Pfffftttt. It should be People of Chuck E Cheese.
Now, there was enough skin, cracks and diabetic needles showing to make me wonder if we had wandered onto Spruill Ave. For reals, Y'all! It was enough to make me put on my "approach and die" momma mask of hypervigilence.
But, surprisingly, the pizza wasn't half bad. And Miss Chatterbox was.....speechless! She must have drug her daddu around in circles, for at least half an hour, before finally choosing a game. She also didn't get anywhere near going through all her tokens. But, shhhhhhh! She doesn't know that.
The Bun? She found the stupid animatronic rats hilarious. Traitor.
All and all it wasn't a bad trip, but I don't think we will be going back there since the cross section of humanity present raised my hackles.
Happy Cupcake Party Tuesday!!!