I’ve just
spent the morning in an indoor playcentre. I’m not normally one to head to
these indoor padded sticky cells, but I’m at week five… maybe six without a day
off with my hubby, so the idea of sending my kid nuts in a primary coloured pen
made me grin.
And fellow
parents, I’m sure you know what that grin is about. It’s the grin of knowing
that everytime your kid jumps on that indoor trampoline, they will sleep for
another two minutes. Everytime your kid hoons around on the indoor car, you’ve
got an extra five minutes up your sleeve. Everytime your kid smashes their
entire body into the jumping castle, you’re looking at ten, maybe fifteen
minutes of silent night. So after two hours, I was rubbing my hands with glee
at the thought of a few hours to myself while my kid snoozes hard in his bed.
