Today John and I had a "Mom & John" day in celebration of his next-to-last day of summer. He chose mini golf, go karts, and an arcade, and I went along with it just as contentedly as you might expect. My only requirement was that we eat sushi first, which he happily agreed to.
After sushi, we went to our usual mini-golf place near our house, but it was closed. Not sure if it's because it's Tuesday or because it was raining, but this left me with Dramatic Devastation Boy.
So we went home and googled it and found that, of course, there's another location not too far -- in fact, conveniently located right beside Shopryland. I winced at the location but pushed onward.
First, we played mini golf, and I got creamed, which, surprisingly, is pretty common when I am forced to compete in even quasi-athletic endeavors. Not that golf is quasi ... just sayin'.
|Yes, he got one. #isthisreallymykid?|
Next, we attempted to have a go-kart race, but it was still raining, and the track was temporarily shut down.
As a result, we ended up playing in the arcade, where I gave him $8 in quarters (because he's 8 -- his suggestion). He played a racing game and several other borderline-casino-type electronic thingies (not that I would know anything about casinos; I have only seen commercials of course), and these produced minimal tickets.
And then we found the ski ball lanes. I have always loved ski ball, and this one was only 25 cents per game.
I played and got a few tickets. John played and got none. So, I marched my entitled butt up to the attendant (who had already made a bad impression by refusing to honor my "really old coupons" -- "so old they were posted online under different management." She finally agreed to give us $1 off instead of the printed $2 off for each mini-golf game.) Said attendant asked if it happened to be the "middle" ski ball lane. It was. "That one's tickets get stuck," she said, and it was then I knew our rainy-day luck had changed.
She abandoned the register, grabbed a special key, and followed us to the game. She opened the ticket-container door, and walked us through the repair: The tickets had dis-engaged from the spitter-outter shoot, and so she had to guide them back in the right direction. She then informed us that the game would first distribute all earned-to-date tickets that had not been claimed, then give us ours, and then reset itself. She walked away while the machine regurgitated not one not three not five but SIX hundred unclaimed tickets. Obviously, there are WAY too many Nashville tourists who are not standing up for themselves.
|John was mildly amused.|
We continued playing. The machine still seemed to be settling up old debts, and we ended up with an obscene amount of tickets.
When it was all said and done, John walked away with loads of candy, two squirt guns, and a pair of fuzzy dice.
Then we came home and realized that we have no school supplies, which are traditionally delivered at the "Sneak-A-Peak" event that occurs the night before the first day of school (which is tomorrow). I work 7:30 to 3:30 tomorrow and S-a-P starts at 4 p.m.
Surprisingly, fuzzy dice, squirt guns, and candy are not on the 3rd grade supply list, but then again, neither is having fun. After all, 3rd grade is when test scores start to matter.
Oh well, at least we purchased the fun.