Monday, February 23, 2009

Hell Sent Me Back

I had the pleasure of visiting Hell on Saturday.

Ever been there?

No. Well if you have kids, don't worry. You'll get your chance.

On Saturday I drove 4 hours round trip to the nearest Chuck E. Cheese Hell for a birthday party. I know I am absolutely insane and sacrifice my sanity far too often for the joy of my children. Not only did I drive that far, I also did it all by my little lonesome with all three kiddos. I totally just upped the crazy notch. In my defense the birthday boy was family.

Before we attended the party, I thought a visit to Target was in order. You know, just to ease my nerves in advance with a little retail therapy. I scored some nice stuff for the boys new room. I also scored some horrified pitying looks as I hauled my crew through there. It was not pretty. The baby fussed, Cashman disappeared every few minutes, and the Monster whined. After all this I was really looking forward to the beer I knew Chuck Hell served.

Evidently I hadn't been watching the clock close enough because we were 30 minutes late to the party. It wouldn't have mattered if we had arrived an hour early though. The place was packed. I can't even express the sheer number of people crammed into this place. We parked nearly a block away, then proceeded to make our way loaded down with diaper bag, baby, present, bottled water, etc. etc. etc. Upon entrance through the gates of Hell, they stamp your hand and your spawn's with black light visible ink and coordinating numbers. You don't have names in Hell, you're just a number.

From there on out the recollections are kind of fuzzy. Too many people, too much body odor. I know the building was so over the fire marshall limit. Once the time for the birthday table ran out there was no where to sit. It was standing room only and they were still letting people through the turnstiles. I do remember that on the way back to the truck, as I was dragging Cashman by one hand and the Monster had the other side of him (he was hopped up on sugar and out of control) he started hollering, "Help! Help! Please help me!" Like he was being abducted. I could have died right there. But you know the worse part of the the whole afternoon? Chuck was out of beer.



  1. Oh wow, did you bring back a memory here. ONE, because I could never bring myself to go back to that place. The noise was beyond belief, and I couldn't keep track of my only child (how did you manage THREE?) and it was pure misery and panic until we could finally leave.

    I'll bet you Hell is just like that. JUST like it, and without beer.

  2. Been there done that. But, I don't think I ever agreed to go it ALONE without making their dad visit hell with me. Tell hubby to kiss your feet in gratitude. You are a brave woman.

    Oh, I got monsters pics in last night.

  3. what they serve beer in "hell"? we've been there, it was never even offered.


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