Playgyms

So, here I am. After a day planned elsewhere that was rained off, and burying a fish, I decided the only option left was a playgym. The boys need to run off some energy (understatement of the year), and I have to try and do some work — although the idea of that is vaguely laughable.

So here I am — great idea. Free wifi, tea on tap and somewhere to amuse the kids. So we get here, and the state of the car park already informs me I have missed the golden hour. Car park is rammed, but I decide to stay positive.

Get to payment and I ask how busy it is. She gives me a look. I pay and head on in anyway — after all I’m here now, the kids are expectant, and I’ve nowhere else to go. As expected, it’s rammed. My normal table is gone (curses), which was a given — I’m an early riser and attender when I’ve planned the day, if I’m paying for it I’m not wasting it!

I look around and the only table available is exactly where I’m stood — at the gates of hell. Sod it, I think, I’ve a laptop and headphones, I need nothing else but caffeine. So I sit. for about 30seconds, and order a tea. After I’ve got my tea and placed it on the table I realise the error of my ways. The floorbaords are suffering with being a constant walkthrough, and even the lightest of marshmallows makes them rock, tipping tea everywhere. this is not a good spot. I move across the way — right into the queue of parentals desperately waiting to be served caffine/ sandwiches/ gin/ hard-core drugs. Nope — not going to work, the floorboards are still giving up the will to live.

I look around refusing to be beaten and see table 20. It’s empty. Location isn’t great but as long as I can drink tea without dousinng my computer, it’s all good. At this point Ds2 arrives and helps me move stuff. To a table that’s wonky. I curse aloud (I’m beyond shame at this point, and besides it’s an oven up here).

Off I go to napkins and boost the table up. I am NOT moving. DS1 has buggered off without a goodbye and doesn’t know where we are, half my tea is gone, I’m sat opposite the entrance to a ‘twisty twirly fun slide’, my ears may start to bleed and I feel a migraine coming on. I am not moving. I doubt I can do my normal times here, due to the noise, as well as the multitude of children on the table opposite who have decided the floor is a trampoline.

Work requires concentration and quiet. It requires me to not have a banging headache and resisting the urge to trip kids up as they blast past.

I may just read FB or try to access NetFlix. Even the Pokemon have run away due to the noise and mayhem