Family Fun

It was bound to happen.

Ned has melted.

In the cold, muddy, mostly-snowless world of winter, outdoor play has lost some charm. And let's face it, marvelous as Legos are, sometimes we need a break.

As entertaining as the "Dark Vader" impression is...

 and it is...

we were looking for a different kind of fun last night. So we paid our $10 admission fee and went to the night of family fun my employer was holding.

Louis had never been to a "gym," but he loves new experiences involving the word "fun," and he couldn't wait.

When he found a pirate-hook-shaped stick outside, I knew it was a good sign.

By the time Baba arrived to meet us, Louis had decided the evening was going to be loads of fun--and we hadn't even stepped inside.

We found a parachute and Louis immediately set to work. Do children automatically know how to play with parachutes? Louis took to it the way he met his first ice cream cone--with outright enthusiasm.

He scored a few baskets.

He (sort of) tried a new game.

He ran and ran and ran.

Then we discovered the plasma cars.

When we arrived in the car area, Louis couldn't wait to climb aboard. Then I found out that we had missed the time slot for the 7 and under age group.

The big kids had the court.

And there wouldn't be another time for our 3-year-old to try the car unless we were willing to risk his playing with the big kids. Well, you may think of Louis as a preschooler, but he firmly believes he is a big kid.

We tell him all the time how big he is and--perhaps like many 3-year-olds--he often seeks out even bigger kids as playmates.

So I scanned the room, saw that very few children were on the cars, and said we'd let him try. By the time I made my decision, of course, this is all I could see.

And before the staff even had time to finish their explanation of how to make the car move, Louis was off.

Then the only problem was getting him off the car so the big kids could have a turn.

For a moment it looked bleak. Then suddenly I found myself consenting to let Louis go into the pool. I'm not a fan of pools. For me, swimming falls in the same category as pickles, foot massages, pet snakes, and dark, crowded intoxicated parties with blaring music. I'm sure there are people who find enjoyment in these things. They just do nothing for me.

Recognizing that I am in the minority, however, and because my husband does enjoy swimming, we had packed for a possible pool visit. We changed in the locker rooms and headed out to the pool.

"We're only open for another 15 minutes," the pool attendant said.

"That's fine," I said happily. "We won't be here that long."

I was right. As I expected, Louis--wearing the requisite life vest--tentatively went down two steps into the pool, holding his father's hands, and stopped. The water was cold.

Even more horrifying, as he explained on the way home when I asked later what he thought of the pool, "It was a little bit wet."

That's my boy. He lasted about three minutes and came back out to watch Baba duck under the water a few times.




 Then we dried off and returned to non-water play. We found bean bag tosses...

hula hoops...

 stacking seals...

 pizza and juice...

a reading of Cat in the Hat--Louis thought it was a bit below par, but he considers himself somewhat of an expert on the topic...

and then there were crafts. Louis decided he wanted to decorate one of the treasure chests.

I have never let Louis use a bottle of glue--never mind one this large--but he loved it and handled it beautifully.

Then--pushing past the exhaustion--he returned to the hula hoops.

It was an amazing night, and we'll definitely try it again.

So what was Louis's favorite part?

When I asked, he said, "The cars."

When Baba asked, he said, "The 20 dollars."

But when Grandma asked this morning, he didn't hesitate or stop to think before answering. "The pool."