Chuck E. Cheese

Nothing says "I love you" like a birthday party. Nothing says "I like you" more than an invitation to a birthday party. And no one can say "Happy Birthday, Kid" like a giant mouse. So naturally, nothing compares to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. I had managed to avoid this experience for my first 7 years of motherhood, but no longer. My kids were invited to a party there a few weeks ago, and our lives will never be the same.

They saw the craziness, and jumped in headfirst. I made the mistake of taking all three girls by myself to the party on a Saturday. Never again. Chaos doesn't begin to describe the scene there, and they loved it.

Every heart-racing mini-ride.

 Every obnoxiously loud siren.

Every larger-than-life "noo-noon"

2 hours later, I attempted a feeble plea, "Mommy will bring you back here next week so we can finish using your tokens and get prizes when it's not so crowded!" They looked at me with big, glazed eyes, in the way that only sugar-crazed, overpartied kids can. And I realized there was NO WAY I was getting them out of there until they had spent every last token and cashed in every single ticket.

Nearly an hour later, we were deciding how to spend the tickets when the girls spotted giant lollipops. "We want those!" they cried. Deciding we had just enough tickets, I approached the busy cashier confidently. "We'll take 3 lollipops." I gave her the tickets, and, just my luck, the lollipops had been mismarked. They were EACH about the number of tickets we had. I sighed, dreading to tell my exhausted princesses the bad news.

 

Then a voice from behind the counter spoke up. "You know, you can always pay the ticket difference."

At this point, it didn't matter how much that difference was. (But for the record, it was only $1.92) Without hesitation, I reached for my wallet, "We'll take it. And God bless you!" 

Natalie's first love