Expensive Little Duck

Friday afternoon I picked up Robby and his friend Rowan from school for a special adventure.  (Rowan is the neighbor up the street whom I watch every morning before dropping her off at school.)  The pair have been working on me for weeks, trying to casually hint that a trip to Chuck E Cheese would be a lot of fun. (They saw a commercial promising free tickets to every child who comes in costume.) Of course, there is nothing casual when it comes to the hints generated by eager eight year olds! 

The pair schemed as they desperately tried to turn every conversation around to Chuck E Cheese. "Hey Momom, I'm a little worried about my bones. I feel like they could break at any minute. I think I need to eat more calcium. Hmmm.... (scratching his head) Did you know that cheese has a lot of calcium?  Wow, Chuck E Cheese has pizza with cheese, and it's probably loaded with calcium." He isn't going to win any awards for being discrete.

After a few days I mentioned that perhaps we should to go Chuck E Cheese on Friday after school.  They both leaped off the couch and started jumping up and down in the living room,  ironically knocking over a full cup of milk which was also loaded with calcium. While going to the pizza arcade is not my favorite activity, knowing how much my little guy loves it makes the noises, smells, stickiness and expense worth it.  After all, where else can you blow $80 in tokens in the quest to win a plastic duck valued at $1?

Proudly wearing Halloween costumes, and insisting that Hamlet wear a costume too so that they could take his tickets, we set out for the arcade. I wasn't sure how Timmy would respond to the lights and sounds. Sometimes he becomes too stimulated and melts down. As it turns out, he takes after his big brother when it comes to his love of Chuck E Cheese. Smiling from ear to ear as we walked around the arcade, Timmy never stopped cooing and giggling.

After three hours and a small fortune, the friends were finally ready to cash out their tickets at the prize wall. I find this to be the most torturous part of the experience. After standing and wearing Timmy the entire time, I was ready to just go home. I was hoping for a smooth transaction, but I knew that it wouldn't be possible. It takes them forever to decide which plastic novelty they want to claim. Ironic that it takes them so long to chose because the cheap plastic toy is quickly forgotten as it becomes lost in the abyss of the toy box.

At this juncture I try to take a deep breath and remind myself that it is the journey, not the toy, that is important.  Somehow it lessens the blow to think that I spent a tidy sum on an afternoon of family fun. The cheaply made gigantic toy duck with a mustache was simply a bonus, which incidentally I'm fairly certain has already been lost.