Jump 'N' Jive

So, one of Regan's little friends, Sadie, had a birthday party at this place called Jump 'N' Jive. This is a place where "inflatables" apparently go to die a slow death. If you are unsure as to what an inflatable is, take a look here. And here's another picture for you to look at.

You get what I'm describing, right? We live across the street from a park and when the weather gets moderately decent, all the rich kids rent these things then invite their friends to eat hot dogs, bounce around for a few hours and inevitably vomit inside the inflatable.

Sounds fun, no?

Anyhow, we got really excited about getting to go to J 'N' J because it gave us something to do on a Saturday, and we would never have thought about doing something like this on our own unless Rachel, Sadie's mother, hadn't won this birthday party.

Disclaimer: I'm already over my quota on run-on sentences, so you are just going to have to forget that I got an english minor in college, and forgive the endless streams of thoughts that reside in on sentence. (Geez. I just read that. And well, I ought to be shot.)

What I did not know about this place is that parents are encouraged to get right in there with their kids and play along. As a matter of fact, I don't know what I was expecting my two year old daughter to do without a little coaxing from her father! So, we kicked off our shoes, and went to the first slide we saw -- which was, no lie -- two stories tall.

There was no way either one of us was going to make it all the up this thing.

The incline alone was enough to render me useless, but Regan with a smaller frame might have had a chance if there had been adequate footing and hand-holds. There weren't. And that's why I said this is the place where inflatables go to die. These have to be the ones that have been retired by some self-respecting inflatable-for-rent company.

Well, Regan and I got most of the way up before we found that getting the rest of the way would be impossible. But, lo and behold, another dad and three kids were making the climb behind us. What to do, what to do? The other dad was very encouraging (I must have had a look of trepidation or retreat on my face), because he instructed me to hand down Regan. So, as I did, I lost my footing and took myself and Regan down the long line of kids and their poor, unsuspecting father.

What happened next, I sware, happened in slow motion: Regan and I slipped. I'm pretty sure that my sock foot ended up in the jaw of the dad behind me and Regan and I took out every single person on the slide. It happened in slow motion, with the sound of bowling pins being knocked over and Adagio for Strings being piped over the sound system.

But we landed safely. Granted, I was about two or three breaths away from actually needing medical attention, but we landed safely and soundly.

Then Regan ran to the next inflatable. Then another. Then another. She was unphased by the experience and realized that she might really enjoy these after all!

We thought that she would have a good nap that afternoon because she had spent so much energy -- and she did -- but I was the one who really needed a nap. No kidding, for several days afterwards, parts of my body ached that I wasn't aware could ache...

Really and truly, after that first, ill-fated event, the rest of the day was a lot of fun. Regan and I played as if I were a two year old right there with her. Kayla and I took turns playing with Regan and watching Grant. And, just like it was when I was going to birthday partys at Regan's age, those two hours went by as fast as any two hours I've ever lived.

We had a great day. Embarassing moments and all!