I MADE IT! I made it through Christmas! That in and of itself is a Christmas miracle!
I'm not even going to offer apologies for my expressed exuberance, the last few days have been just something! There was food, fellowship, family, and fun! It was glorious!
I'm also a little gloriously tired, and I am more than reasonably sure that my poor carcass needs a reprieve and detox session, but honestly, the holidays are for feasting and celebrating, and I so, so did that.
In fact, there was one holiday outing that was full of all of the above and more. Mainly because the family trip to Triple Play Family Fun Park provided me with new stories of mirth inducing joy.
I should have known the day was going to be a banger when I went in to the ladies restroom and overheard an interaction in the stall next to me which challenged my ability to not guffaw loudly like a donkey.
As I was preparing to exit my stall, I heard a grandmother voice say in the most patient, grandmotherly way possible,
"You know, you are going to have to learn to wipe yourself one day."
A toddler-esque sigh was then expressed with the weight of twenty pyramids behind it. So put upon was the bearer of the sigh that my ears perked up like a rabid bat in a crowded tunnel.
"Nah, you can just do it. I don't think I can."
The little boy who spoke the words of weaponized incompetence to his long suffering Nana continued, "I just don't want to."
Now props to Grams, she countered with, "Well, it doesn't matter if you want to or not, you are going to have to learn to do it."
And in full Captain America style, the precocious creature replied, "No, I don't think I will."
Me, I had to bite my cheeks and exit before I went full chortle. I quickly fled my stall and washed my hands, trying not to laugh out loud.
That kid is going places.
Or not.
Anyway, the youth theme continued as we made our way through the attractions. At laser tag was the finest interlude.
My brother, his fiance, me, and the hubs are all over 40. So we are old. Our children are all 18-19. We went into laser tag and those unsporting spawn went straight to the red side of the game and smiled at us in the most annoying sort of challenging way.
Being a competitive bunch, we old cretins lined up on the green side.
Then the real invasion took place.
No less than ten, 6-8 year old boys suddenly flooded into the door of the staging area, along with two older women and one young girl. The boys ALL lined up with our offspring, while the girl and two women lined up with us.
Then the gamemaster came in and said that some of the red side had to join the green side.
We must have looked like the embodiment of loser, because not a single child came over to our side.
So, after smiling at each other in understanding, our four adult kids came over to the green side.
My internal villain began laughing maniacally.
The game master paused for a sec and uttered, "Well, there is a bit of a height differential, but what the heck, lets play!"
We all donned our vests, and I smiled gleefully at our three unknown to us team mates. We were outnumbered by the small frys, but I knew what was about to go down.
"Don't worry, you have two nationally ranked shotgun champions and a Olympic Rifle coach on your team, this is going to be fun," I blurted with glee.
Fun was an understatement. It was a massacre.
The young girl on our team was really good at issuing directives and assigned me the job of guarding our base. I kept yelling, "Not the younglings!" as I annihilated the scurrying heathens. They really didn't like my flank and destroy tactics.
My son, daughter, and husband though, they absolutely destroyed the youths. I think the boy ended up with like 21,000+ points in each round. Those poor kids spent most of the five minute matches returning to their base to get recharged.
It was really rather glorious.
Between the bowling, the VR rollercoaster-like ride, the bumper cars, and the arcade, our four and a half hours at 3-Play flew by. We even were able to get my dad to bowl, which was a Christmas miracle in and of itself as he is of limited mobility after his stroke. The cheers that emanated from our two lanes when he got a strike were that of Christmas miracle cheer.
It was a very good day...
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's so incredibly coated in flour, sugar, and remnants of Christmas cheer iPhone.