The House of Mouse

Dear Reader,

When I was a young mother–and I was a very young mother–I had a friend with kids the same age as mine. Well, I had several of those, but I’m thinking about this friend because of something she used to say. Every couple of months, she would sigh dramatically. “I guess it’s time to take the kids to The House of Mouse again.” By that, she meant Chuck E. Cheese.

I didn’t understand her attitude at all. She made those trips for her kids’ sake, but she hated the place. Her reasons were legitimate: the noise, the chaos, the expense. I never saw those drawbacks as serious enough to negate the main attraction. My daughter had a great time there. She was happy, she was entertained, and she was safe. The hours we spent at The House of Mouse gave me a chance to turn my parenting brain off and think my own thoughts. For a few hours, I rested secure in the knowledge my daughter wouldn’t need anything complicated. She wouldn’t complain she was bored.

Besides, I could sneak in a game or two of Skee-Ball for myself. I love that game.

To be fair, that friend was significantly older than I was, even though our kids were the same age. In the years since, I decided I probably would have shared her attitude if I hadn’t been so recently out of childhood myself. Last week, I had the opportunity to test that theory. It proved untrue. I’m 50 now, but I still had a great time visiting The House of Mouse with my niece and nephew.

For one thing, the people-watching there is exceptional. You’ve got kids, you’ve got parents, you’ve got employees in various stages of enjoying or tolerating or despising their jobs. For a writer, there are few more fertile grounds than Chuck E. Cheese for observing possible character traits to borrow.

For another, if you love the kids you’re with, how could you not enjoy their joy in being there? My nephew ran gleefully from the games to the slides to the pizza, calling behind him, “Aunt Ah-yissa! Come watch!” My niece, older and more knowledgeable, said, “Aunt Melissa, do you want to play Skee-Ball with me?” That girl knows the way to her aunt’s heart.

In between, there was time to talk and laugh with my sister and our mom while the kids were occupied and not needing our attention. What could be more precious to a constant caregiver than those fleeting moments when your care is not needed?

So no, Dana, I still don’t understand your disdain for The House of Mouse. The place promises to do one thing, and it delivers admirably. It’s hard to put a price on those moments when motherhood becomes briefly easier, but to my mind, the price Chuck E. charges is not too high at all.

Besides, I still play a mean game of Skee-Ball. Anyone want to join me? You get the tokens; I’ll buy the pizza.

Love, Melissa