Another unrelated Edited to Add Note: Hey, I just put up my review of Jasper Fforde on my review site. If you haven't read him yet, please, go and do! If you have, next Next is in July!
See Lotta? I did not forget!
(Thanks Weight Watchers Flex Points!)
Unlike Dooce, no cute teen boys with lost dogs have scoped out my potential, but a couple of middle-aged dads at Chuck E Cheese did eye-linger/notice me. It was more of a "God help me save me is it over yet," glazed look of desperation and confusion, but the point is that out of the plethora of moms and mom-types there more than a few shot me this look. I will take it as a compliment that they were attracted to my emerging hotness versus I look like a safe bet for rescuing them from the sensory overload that is
I will also assume it was not indicative that I looked a little more crazed and deranged than the average mom.
I will further assume my emerging hotness is the reason why the manager stopped and asked me---while I loitered by the bathroom doing the butt-sniff, diaper peek on the toddler---if I was the lady with the headache who needed ibuprofen.
I told him, "Umm, no, not me, which is not to say I don't have a headache. In fact, the headache is building but I think the cure is the exit door," and he had a laugh that was a tad too hearty, followed by, "You think I don't know, HA! I feel like this every day!"
And suddenly I realized his life was Chuck E Cheese every single day, for hours and hours, with no escape until after closing.
My face slacked into bulgy eyes and gaping mouth as I pondered this. He watched my horror, smirked, waved and ran off to find the headachy lady.
I think I now know the job that would be worse than death for me.
Manager of Chuck E Cheese.
I'm appreciative of people who do jobs that would crush me under their obligation, jobs so far out of character for me I'd dread getting out of bed every day. And God love (or God save?) this manager of Chuck E Cheese who provides an outlet for tantrums, and running off, and spending too much money, and fights about tickets, and shoving and WAIT! I meant provides a spot for fun.
I just have one question: why oh why a mouse?
Is it the Mickey Factor?
As with the dentist, optometrist, and mammogram, I'm just glad this annual visit is over.
I'm off to slam back some booze of some sort (whatever I can scrounge up from the cabinet) and then climb into the sensory deprivation chamber.
After I convince my over-stimulated children they need to stay in bed and sleep.
Where's Santa, the Tooth Fairy or some other good "get in bed and sleep" motivator?
copyright 2007 Julie Pippert