How The Hell Did I Manage To

Leo himself

end up at Leo´s Lekeland, you ask? And on a sunny Saturday afternoon no less?

I have no fucking clue, to be honest, which is why I am writing about it. To sort it out in my head.

It was one of those mornings where nobody could decide what to do. By “nobody” I mean “the adults.”

Shall we go for a walk? Shall we find a playground? Shall we go to a movie? VilVite? Boat ride? Shall we go outside and kick the soccer ball? Shall we just chill out here?

On and on for hours back and forth. Finally around 1pm I just said “Philip, what do you want to do?” to which he immediately responded “Leo´s.”

That dreaded word that every parent in Norway fears. Leo´s.

To which my automatic response is “No, not Leo´s.”

“But why Pappa” he asked.

“Because, to be honest with you son, I absolutely hate it there. Feel like I need to be deloused afterwards.”

But then, in a rare moment of unselfish kindness, in trying to think, hey what does my child really want to do (instead of imposing what I think is best for him), I caved into my weakness (probably due to suffering a stomach bug the day before), and said, “You know what? Ok son, Leo´s it is.”