As we enter I hear it; screaming, yelling, and crying.  I tell my overexcited 2 year old he must eat first, and then play.  I am hoping, really hoping that by the time he is done the 6 older kids in the play place will be gone. 

But to my dismay I look around and see at least 4 of the kids are with grandparents who look close to narcoleptic fits.  They will probably let the kids play until dinner in order to take advantage of the free babysitter:  the play area.  Way easier than trying to entertain at home.  Thank goodness we can afford me to work part time from home so our boys don’t have my 65 year old parents for nannies. 

As we sit, I notice a father and son eating together.  How cute.  Together time.  But then realize the dad is on his cell phone.  He continues to talk on his phone for the entire 20 minutes they enjoy lunch “together.”  The only comments directed to his son are “eat your food” and “no we aren’t playing here, it’s too crowded.”  The rest of the conversation consists of inappropriate words and phrases to the person on the other end of the phone.

My son follows directions and eats.  While we eat, chaos ensues in the play area.  Kids take turns hobbling back to the booths of caregivers complaining someone hit, bit, or kicked them.  One kid actually fesses up to his mom that he hit a little girl.  The mom tells him to go apologize and when he does in a surprisingly endearing way, the grandmother of the girl he hit only looks up from her crossword and grunts.  When the mom explains her son is simply apologizing, the grandma completely ignores her.  She must have been close to completing her celebrity magazine puzzler. 

After 10 minutes my son has finished his kid’s meal, played with his toy as long as possible, and still any hope of other children leaving is gone.  I tell him he has 10 minutes to play because the baby is ready to go home and nap.  As we get close I cringe because I have been here before.  I know what is going to happen.  He is going to get hurt and I will have to fight a small child or a senior citizen.  As we enter, two more kids blast past us.  My son is the smallest kid in a tiny maze of wall to wall children at this point.
 
Just as I hold my breath and wait for the fireworks I hear, “this little girl peed in the maze!” 

Lots of ewwing follows as a mass exodus from the play area occurs.  My son is happily playing in one area where there is no pee.  The little girl is escorted to the grandmother with the crossword puzzle, who says, “Stop crying and sit down.”  I watch as she continues to do her puzzle.  Her granddaughter cries while sitting in wet pee clothes.  I once again give thanks to the fact that my parents are not watching my kids daily, or ever in fact.  
One conscious parent decides to alert an employee that there is bodily fluid in the play area.  A cleaning person grabs a few napkins, climbs in the maze, wipes one third of the pee and climbs back out.  All the parents tell their children it is safe to return to the play area. 

At that moment I decide that is enough adventure for one day and tell my son we are leaving.  I sanitize his hands till they are raw and we head home.