hours of my evening to catch up with an old friend. We were limited on time and for that reason preferred to stay local in the University Place suburbs which feel like a damn Rat Race challenge getting in or out of. But with an increasingly sleepy baby in tow and a puny puddle of options for wine by the glass, if you count Applebee’s and Grassi’s two-fork boutique, we opted to meander a few aisles at Whole Foods.
Now, in all honesty, I have not been a huge fan of
the big, high-priced grocer and would only dare enter if I had less than
three things on my list and wanted to feel fancy that day. Otherwise I find Whole
Foods is only good for free samples and the fresh-baked cookie aisle. But that
paired with a heavy pour fit the bill for the night. Walk-up beer and wine
service plus an outdoor deck with wooden lawn chairs and heat lamps … equals ...
mom spot. I could sit without the veteran-server-guilt of our late night, last
minute, wine only, plus baby scenario.
And for just a few moments I felt like
it was my very own wrap-around porch and outdoor fireplace on a warm summer
evening when a bunch of late night grocery shoppers parked in my paved lot.
Needless to say, we were ushered out by the staff when 10 pm rolled around and
Lea was about three cookies deep. Now we’re both big fans of our neighborhood
Whole Foods.
**Side note: 3-6 pm happy hour and free Wi-Fi. Case closed. J
**Side note: 3-6 pm happy hour and free Wi-Fi. Case closed. J
The second photo is that of my not-yet two-year-old daughter
overlooking the first floor of Tacoma’s infamous Chuck E Cheese. If you’ve ever
been a kid or have had one of your own in the South Sound Area, you know the
place I’m talking about. It’s free to enter but a paycheck to participate. Neon
lights and dancing mascots give off the feel of a Vegas strip for youngsters,
except you’ll leave smelling like old socks and bad pizza instead of booze and
cigarettes. I’m not sure which is worse.
It’s kind of a zoo at Chuck E Cheese. As you enter they
stamp numbers on your hands to match you with your child. You
know, for security purposes, so you feel both safe and alarmed at the same
time. The jungle gym rattles in its anchor to the ceiling. Children’s shrill
screams and fits of cries fill the air with an eerie uncertainty as to their
joyous or torturous cause. Should you ever drop a token or ticket reel, greasy
little fingers will snatch unclaimed loot before you even know it’s gone. When in Vegas … ammaright?
And all the while
I was taken back to days when this was my playground. When the center of the
room was engulfed by the pool-sized ball pit that my older cousin would chuck
us across so we could swim through the plastic waters screaming “Again! Again!”
And now we’re here, me with my own little lady for that cousin’s son’s third
birthday party. Life sure comes full circle. And some things just change in
time, like the omission of that ball pit after rumors of unmentionables being
found. Like the remodel of the old big toy to make room for a new one plucked
straight from some McDonalds (in my opinion) or the creepy animatronic band
reduced down to the one Chuck now with a facelift that’s left him looking less
like our beloved mouse and more like a cheap counterfeit.
That’s just the
product of time and age, working our brains, our interests, our perceptions, until
those childhood holidays seem far less magical. But that day, thanks to coffee
and Lea, I felt her fits of joy bring it all back. We filled our pockets with
tokens and made our rounds for etch-a-sketch pictures and coin slot rides. We
threw basketballs and aspired to blow ten bucks on a 25 cent toy. But you know
what, it was worth it. To kick off a childhood memory with her. To celebrate
the circle of life and spend our day together in a delirious play land. We
won’t be back for a while. But I guarantee, we will be back.
