Our Visit with the ROUS
I forgot to tell you about our Chuck E. Cheeses experience!
Several weeks ago we went to the Big City with dear friends to celebrate their daughter’s birthday. We were in for whatever plan they said they were doing, but when I heard it was Chuck E. Cheeses, I did have a qualm of conscience.
No germophobe can think of those hamster tubes running across the restaurant without a full-body shudder and a sick feeling in their stomach.
“I told my husband we could go to any Chuck E. Cheeses in the city – so it was his job to find out which one is the newest and has the best reviews for cleanliness,” my friend told me. This is why I love her, she’s amazing!
The hubby did a good job – when we walked in at 11:00 a.m. on a Monday we were impressed not only with the scent of cleaning solution, but also with the emptiness of the building. Chalk one up for the homeschooling lifestyle; being on our own schedule does mean we can visit places during off hours!
We thought this adventure was all for the kids, and then I caught my friends big ‘ol fireman of a husband sneaking tokens for skiball and gave in… we all had a good time playing the games of chance, though the ticket outputs were definitely jacked up.
A few take aways from my time at Chuck E. Cheeses:
1. Nothing says cool quite like a ROUS (Rodent Of Unusual Size) lip-syncing to Don’t You Forget About Me while a 70-year-old geriatric plays an air guitar on the big screen.
2. Chuck E. Cheese is from Jersey. I might have guessed another locale, probably with a large Italian population, but his accent gave him away when he warned our birthday girl not to get “boyned” by the candle.
3. The teenage idea of what makes you attractive is not the same as the thirty-something idea of awesome. The young man who kept leaping over the counter instead of walking around was impressive to his youthful co-worker, but gave me visions of all the bacteria from his shoes falling on the counter and a curiosity about what his manager would think? I’m such a fuddy-duddy.
4. That place really is a mecca of childhood joy. By the time we left, Tres had only only pig tail left in her hair and all the kids were slightly drunk on joy as they toted their balloons and spiral straw sippy cups. So drunk, in fact, that one child who shall remain nameless had a wee bit of an accident in their pants because the potty was not nearly as exciting as the mechanical race horse!
We also left scared of the man in the mouse suit, but what else but caution can you really expect toward a person who willingly dons a polyester furball with fly-screen eyes?
Have you ever visited Chuck E. Cheeses for a birthday party? How did you enjoy the experience?