Dante's Error

Poor Little Squirt. Last year his birthday began with a wee-hours jaunt down the stair case to ride out a Tornado Warning in the basement. This year, on his Seventh Birthday, he woke up to the sound of a Rolling-Crashing Thunderstorm And Teeming Downpour. Thankfully, I had the foresight to remember that June is an unpredictable-weather month in our part of the country, and planned an indoor party.

We drove through the buckets of rain to the Hellacious Party Place known as Chuck E. Cheese. Super Hubs tweeted, and I quote, “Dante was wrong. Chuck E. Cheese is the Inner Circle of Hell.” Hosting a child’s birthday party at Chuck E. Sneeze is not for the faint-of-heart. It’s Craziness on Steroids. Wild, adrenalized munchkins carrying weapons of coin-filled plastic cups tear around the place, vying for their favorite video games. They fight over carousels and slot machines, all the while screaming with joy at the top of their lungs. It’s ugly, folks. And very, very loud. I honestly recommend a sedative (for the parents). I think Chuck E. Disease would service parents well by providing a little sound-proof Tea Room where the parents could relax and sip soothing herbal concoctions while their children run around like banshees. I’m pondering opening something like that. Or they should get a liquor license.

Little Squirt had 10 guests who were, I must admit, extremely well-behaved. Most of them had been in his kindergarten class, and I did not know them well. There was one little sweetie who let me call him “Remy” during the entire party, although I discovered too late that his name was, in fact, Aiden. Remy was someone entirely different, and I never figured out exactly who, although he was apparently one of the three that I could not tell apart, with their blond, crew-cut hair styles.

Then it was meal time. I was horrified that I’d forgotten my Germ Blaster, and wondered what kind of bacteria I would be sending them home with as they gorged on sausage and pepperoni pizza. They polished the meal off with Spiderman cupcakes to the accompaniment of a very loud musical performance by the employees and Chuck E. Cheese himself. Half the boys got up to break dance, one even doing some tumbling moves down the aisle. Then, after gift-opening, they exchanged their millions of tickets for twisty-straws and plastic microphones that broke in half by the time they got to their cars.

Little Squirt had an absolutely wonderful party, and Super Hubs and I were wiped out. It was a Loud Day, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that. Next time, I’m bringing ear plugs.