The Death Barn

My children's school has been holding a reading program for the past month. The grade that read the most minutes in the month received a fabulous party at a new place in town called "The Kid Barn"--it's a place jam-packed with air filled bouncers -the kind people rent for birthday parties. Imagine the excitement, when the third grade won the contest. I have two third graders so it was double the pleasure.

Since I had just missed the field trip due to sprained ankles--volunteering for this event seemed like the natural thing to do (well - that and Savvy used her 9 year old wiles on me, "Mom, you know how I was really, really sad because you couldn't come on the field trip? And you know how last year you didn't come on my fieldtrip either?" (never mind the fact that it was a trip to the zoo and it was cancelled due to rain) "Well, I know what you can do to make me feel better. Be a volunteer at the Kid Barn!"

"Yippee," I said. But, I'll admit I did think I was getting off pretty easy. I mean this was a 2 hour gig - and the fieldtrip was the entire school day.

So, this afternoon, I loaded up the other third graders in our neighborhood and we headed to "The Kid Barn". As we walked in the door, the party was in full swing--literally. Screaming 3rd grade girls mixed with yelling third grade boys brought back fond memories of primary activity days of yesteryear--well maybe less fond and more migrainish.

Without further ado, we removed our shoes (even the moms had to--including the lady who wore sandals. The barefoot thing on the germy floor would've creeped me out!) The kids made a run for the bouncers. I found the gal in charge who told me to make sure no one did flips or anything else that would maim them. Seemed like an easy enough job.

Initially, the kids had a blast. Although, I did end up comforting at least 10 crying third grade boys and girls in the first 20 minutes of the party. It was a tad on the dangerous side--and having that many third graders swinging, climbing, jumping and yes, sometimes flipping--was a lawsuit waiting to happen. The only supervision for the 60 rambunctious third graders were us 6 moms (2 of whom were long lost friends and visited in the corner the entire time) and the Barn lady attendant--whose english was on the minimal side.

Somehow, I ended up picking the most dangerous spot as my post. It was a long bouncing maze thingy. It was hard for the bouncers to see who was on the other side of walls and such- so kids were getting jumped on all and hurt all over the place. I started calling it the "death trap" because of the many kids who came out bawling on the other end.

After what seemed like 2 hours, I checked my watch. It had only been 30 minutes. I think I heard screaming in my head - but it was hard to tell over the other crazies. Finally, an hour had passed, and at this point even the kids were struggling to have a good time. Quite a few kids asked me if it was time to go yet. They were done--and I was past done. At last, the witching hour arrived. I gathered up my tribe and we headed out.

On the way home, Savvy summed up the experience by saying, "Mom, I wish we would've come in 2nd place in the reading contest--because they got to go to Classic Skating. That place was bogus!"