Bounce With Me

There are some ‘kid things’ I’ve managed to avoid so far as a parent but in the end I know are inevitable. Trips to Chuck E. Cheese’s, Fort Fun and other headache inducing establishments are sure to be in my future.

  And for good reason. Kids love them. I loved them. For me it was Showbiz Pizza Place. Creepy animatronic band, ski ball and a ball pit that seemed bottomless.  I have no memory of the pizza- it’s all gorilla keyboardists and mouse cheerleaders in my mind.
 (Side note: you can find some pretty hilarious videos on YouTube of the ol' Showbiz band playing today's hits if you are feeling a little nostalgic after reading this.)

  Recently we attended a birthday party at Jumpin’ in Loveland. Although the visions of wild children running a muck, screaming and colliding into one another- fueled by cake and ice cream- were a little nerve racking, we knew it’d be fun for the kid. And with the weather we've had this winter, it was nice just to get out of the house.

  We entered and assessed our situation, taking a minute to adjust to the noise level. Yes, kids were in fact running around crawling over each other to get in and out of bounce houses and shoving each other as they made their way up to the inflatable slides. But my hesitant three year old hid behind my legs. We walked around, checking out our bouncing options and finally decided on a half empty one since it was clear I’d be joining her.
  I had never been in a bounce house. When I was a kid we braved actual trampolines- jumping high without nets- some kids even breaking bones. Hardcore.

  It is fun to jump and eventually Layla thought so too. She bounced and fell and struggled to get up with the same amount of grace as her mother, which is none.

 She giggled and played and eventually didn’t need a co-bouncer. And after cake (the coolest cake I've ever seen made by a friend of the parents of the birthday girl) and a trip down the slide, it was time to go. Of course she cried as we put on her shoes but was of course asleep within five minutes of leaving the parking lot.

  Not something I’d want to do every weekend but the giggles are always worth a little parental sacrifice. And bounce houses are not nearly as cringe worthy as those ball pits, which I hear are a thing of the past at Chuck E. Cheese's, and I'd guess a bounce house is a fair amount safer than trampolines.