Bouncetown

Lately I've been researching moonbounces for Grayson's 2nd b-day. Just last night I ran across a rental place that advertises one in particular that is "for all ages." Could this be right? Am I thinking wistfully and selfishly? Could this moonbounce really hold all one hundred and...you can guess the rest...pounds of me plus another 30 or so for the birthday boy? What about the other party guests? Will it collapse in on itself like a bad comedy if we all jump in there like pathetic older kids whose parents aren't looking? I cannot even imagine such a specimen...until....

Today Grayson and I went to a place called, "Bouncetown." I had been hyping this place up since I decided we'd go there last night so Grayson and Mom were equally excited about the prospect of a place where running, jumping, and bouncing to our heart's delight is not only allowed but encouraged! So we pull up one hour before close (I'm excited, not crazy-it was close to his nap time) After an impromptu meltdown (one could ask, "aren't they all impromptu?" to which I would reply "no because there are definite times a young one has sent many signals of distress that the meltdown is imminent but not yet decided upon.") This one was different- and it was all Kellogg's fault. If they didn't make such delicious Nutri-Grain bars we would've glided right into the property without a second glance. And I'll take the other half of the blame for pulling the Mom Card at the wrong time. There I was, not wanting to make a bad impression on the Bouncetown staff (b/c we're all joining a Book Club together? having late tea? becoming pen pals? don't ask me, it's a thing about the "public personae" I'd have to guess.) I told Grayson he couldn't bring his beloved Apple Nutri-Grain bar with him into the building. I may as well have unzipped my son from himself because this unexpected announcement caused him to become 100% unglued. In the parking lot. In front of the huge bay windows where all the parents sat. Thank goodness for those windows in retrospect as they were my only shot at distraction. A few stolen peeks at other toddlers galavanting around and Grayson was mute with awe and renewed expectation. So we check in, pay our 8 dollars, put our shoes in those cute little cubbies and...
there they were - in all their primary color glory-about three GIGANTIC bounce houses that could IN FACT hold adults as well as children! The woman behind the counter actually used the words, "Please feel free to bounce too!" Grayson was overwhelmed, I was overjoyed and together we walked aimlessly around in our socks trying to get the lay of the land. Just when we spotted an opening into one of the beautiful pillowy havens and I lift my son into this rainbow land of fun, Grayson decides to go monkey-boy on me and clutch onto my hair, face, and shoulders like I'm going to drop him into a pit of hungry hedgehogs (they're much scarier than they sound.) Drat my luck...this is my ONE chance to return to my youth and let my limbs fly where they may but I am once again reminded of my adulthood and motherly responsibilities.

About ten minutes later and after much gentle coaxing, I help Grayson find the fun out of climbing into one of the inflatable giants. This one happened to be a combination slide that reached maybe 12 feet high (okay NOW I can appreciate my little boy's initial shock and terror) and we spent a good solid five minutes somersaulting around and generally giggling like idiots. "Good", I thought to myself, "now he's probably ready for the big guns," and we make our way to the front climbing section. Being the good sport that he is, my son follows his mommy to this insanely tall "staircase" if you will and just looks up at me as if to say, "Aren't there any see-saws or baby swings available at the park today?" But no, I don't cave, I press on in my attempt to climb these stairs with toddler in tow. It must have been the lure of a ridiculously fun fall or the high from the extra oxygen being pumped into this room but my sane brain had left me for a short holiday. Luckily, before we made our ascent, another mom busied me with conversation about potty training, military moves, and her not-so-secret distaste for Sarah Palin and Grayson never had to make the treacherous climb up to the top of Mt. Scarier than Hellimanjoro. I bet she was an angel toddler saver who made it her immortal duty to rescue little tykes from the near catastrophic decisions of their adventure-deprived mothers. Thank God for you Miss Angel of Bouncetown. We both made it out of those billowing pretend buildings and safely back into the lobby where Grayson spent 30 minutes in a coin-operated space shuttle. This miniature aircraft gently rocked back and forth like a warm bubble bath while playing "My Country 'Tis of Thee." The smile on his face said it all and my heart couldn't have been more humbled. My goodness will he ever survive me??