When my friend emailed me and asked if I wanted to meet her at a (sort of) local splash park this week, it sounded like a great idea. I really like this woman, and don’t end up seeing her very often. Plus, our kids get along really well. Plus, a splashpark!
Doesn’t it look awesomely awesome?
We got there before our friends. (Apparently she’d has some sort of disaster with an ill-fitting swimsuit for her daughter that needed to be replaced ONLY with a High School Musical suit available ONLY at Macy’s, where she had to go as soon as they opened. At least I didn’t have that problem.)
At first everything went great. My kids were ecstatic. There were waterfalls, geysers, showers, water mazes, everything a child could want. See how fun?
Jack scraped his foot, which may not seem like a big deal, but he’s suddenly really freaked out by blood. Wait. Let me clarify: He’s suddenly really freaked out by his blood.
So, I’d calmed Jack down a little and he was sitting at a table eating a graham cracker when I watched a camper collide with Quinn and knock him to the cement. All I could do was gasp as I watched his head clonk on the ground. It was worrisome enough that a splashpark staffer came over to see if we needed help.
Fortunately he’s okay. He sulked and yelled for a while and then I convinced him to go play. Meanwhile, Sam was moping because his friend hadn’t arrived yet.
But when she did arrive, he displayed little to no interest in playing. And then Quinn fell again. And Jack tried to play, but a couple bigger kids edged him out of what he was trying to do.
So, then they did this:
He’s sort of one big contusion at this point.
I mean, it could have been worse. I had a fun time chatting with my friend. And my kids were pretty compliant because they were sulking. Although we could have done the same thing for free in my backyard splashpark.
But eventually it became clear that my kids weren’t going to play, so I dressed Quinn and myself only to see Jack get up and go into the water. After he came back after a (short) stint playing, I was trying to get him to tell me if he wanted to stay or leave when fully-clothed Quinn said, “I want to play in the water.”
It was the best of both worlds: I got to fight them to try to get them to play and I got to fight them to try to get them to leave.
So I had a little internal back-and-forth with myself and then put him back in his swimsuit.
And he played for about four seconds.
And that was the end of that.
I forced everyone to get dressed and pee and we left. Quinn was asleep before we hit the main road. And Sam followed suit shortly thereafter.
And that is the entire story of the splashpark. Except for when we were walking to the car and I fell down and sprained my ankle.
Oh well, at least it’s not like I am going to be on my feet walking around a convention and a hilly city all weekend.
Oh. Wait. I am.