The girls are away from us this evening at Winter Jam, a big Christian Rock concert extravaganza, so the boy was feeling kind of low. While we could have taken him there as well, I don't know that he would have really been into it as much as the girls. Because of this whole situation, we kind of felt like we needed to do something special for the boy. With the girls both in youth, he tends to get the shaft when it comes fun events. We try to do something that the sisters wouldn't mind missing. When we asked him what he wanted to do, he gave an answer that chilled our very souls: I want to go to Mr. Gatti's. Unlike when we grew up, there just aren't many video arcades around anymore. Let's all be honest with each other, the kids don't want to go to Gatti's for the pizza. They want to go for the crack laced tickets. Let's spend $10 so a child can get enough tickets to buy a handful of Warhead candies and a Whoopie Cushion that breaks after the first rump hits it. Before some group of our country gets all crazy, I'm not hating on the Gatti's. When I was a teenager, our youth group went there weekly before Bible study. We ate, played copious amounts of Punch Out and made a big mess. But now they have Gatti Land which is like a loud, sticky, half broken assault on the senses. Rabid children dart from game to game while their parents follow them as their personal ticket holders. Believe me you have to be the ticket holder, because if a small bunch of 4 hits the floor accidentally, scads of parents and children are on them like a pride of lions on a wildabeast(I'm sure there is some scientific inaccuracy in that statement, but just go with me). The boy had a goal of ticket numbers so he could obtain a second deck of oversized playing cards. His first deck has been quite fun and he wanted another so we could play giant Canasta. I like the way he thinks. He was on a skeeball roll and it was cheap to play, so we just let him keep swiping his Gatti's card. Next to us, a man had just hit the jackpot and had won 500 tickets. Good for him, you know? He had enough from the jackpot to splurge and get a pair of fuzzy stuffed nunchucks. Living large. So after he got the credit for those on his card, he went back to the machine and swiped. I don't know if you watch many sports, but I do. Whether it is a golfer setting himself up at the tee or a bowler standing like a statue to size up the pins, every athlete has a stance they take when they are in the mode of their particular sport. This man adopted a stance in front of the skeeball machine that said he was taking his task of throwing balls up a ramp and into a bullseye of holes way too seriously. I poked the hub who was already staring with great interest. The man was crouched with one leg out behind him, aiming every ball. The jackpot really must have been a great accomplishment because in three swipes, he had accumulated maybe 10 tickets total. Everyone eventually oools off after a hot streak at the skeeball machine, I guess.
The boy got his wish: a trip to Gatti's, a new deck of oversized cards and(as an added bonus)a black plastic dagger with silver embellishments. What more could a person want?
I am showered and free of eau du pizza. Thank goodness. Night all.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad