Hell on earth Aka soft play

Am I the only one who hates soft play? Why are all these other parents so chirpy? How are they managing to tune out the third time through of Bala-fucking-mory? So. Many. Questions. 

Ok today I haven’t got it too rough, the husband is chasing the toddler round while I sit in a corner with the baby who is happily taking it all in in her pram. Under normal circumstances however it would be me doing the chasing, the ‘wait your turn Atticus’, not to mention scaling the 7 foot climbing wall to rescue the toddler who is now ‘stuck’  ‘stuck’ ‘STUUUCKKKK’. 


Normally it’s me squeezing into the child sized gaps. Letting daddy experience the fun.
There are so many things I hate about soft play:

1) The noise. Oh the noise. Seemingly hundreds of screaming, excitable, wailing children all intent on assaulting my ear drums. 

2) The suspicious smell of urine/faeces that stings the nostrils whenever an over excited child disturbs the air by running past at full pelt. The initial horror of ‘omg where could it be?’ is replaced by a huge sense of relief when your own children have passed the sniff test. 

3) The parents who don’t give a shit. It’s ok, I don’t mind watching your little darlings for you while you have a chat/drink coffee/read your book (seriously? How do you concentrate?!) 

4) The parents who don’t give a shit until their child is asked politely to stop throwing blocks at your child’s head. Mafia mum then becomes very involved, the slight on her house of chav fully registers and she’s gearing up for a war of words. Run away, this mum wants to take you ‘down’. *scared face*

5) The potential contamination risk. I’ve often wondered how frequently the toys are cleaned at these types of establishments. But then I have to concentrate very hard on not thinking about the probable lack of bleach because the thought makes me feel a bit queasy. Or am I feeling sick because I’ve caught noro from an unsterilised ball that I’ve just thrown back into the ball pit… *shudder*

He may look perfectly innocent but who knows what kind of germs he’s harbouring?
6) The hideous food choices. Pizza and chips. Chicken nuggets and chips. Pie and fucking chips. Oh and squash. Don’t get me started on squash. Trying to sneak your own food in is a risky venture, as jobsworth snotty teenage staff are just waiting to pounce on you and your tub of mixed berries. 

7) The prospect of having to leave. As much as I despise these places, my toddler thinks they are the best places on earth. No matter how many times I say ‘after two more turns on the slide, we’re leaving’ I know all hell is going to break loose when it is actually time to go. 

It’s almost not worth going, except the toddlers little happy face as he runs around like he’s high on acid makes it all worthwhile. Bless. 




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