Alice: If I go down the slide, you'll catch me? Mom: Yes! Alice: You're sure? Mom: Look-I'm getting in the slide! Alice: You're sure? Mom: Yes! Alice: People are staring. I can't work like this. Mom: Okay, Alice.
Okay, that does it. I know this is too late for anyone to see (I had to watch my daughter’s two Tri-County New Horizons band concerts today), but when I took my then four-year-old grandson, “Herkimer” (who was diagnosed later with Asperger’s) tto a Burger King with a three-story play area (remember them?), he ensconced himself in the third-story crow’s nest and clamped onto the steering wheel, which he refused to relinquish to the other kids. Things got pretty wonky up there, and I saw one older lad twirl his fingers in a circle beside his own head. I started calling for Herkie to come down, but no amount of bellowing worked. Finally, I had to haul my then sixty-six-year-old carcass up through a dirty, stricky, smelly tube slide to the third-strory crow’s nest, grasp the darling, and drag him, inch by inch, struggling and shrieking, down the tube. Later, after a hamburger and drink, he apologized for his behavior.
Sisyphos over 10 years ago
No fair! Mom is having more fun on the tube slide than Alice!
GROG Premium Member over 10 years ago
What people? I don’t see any people.
puddlesplatt over 10 years ago
Now get out, I want a chance.
louieglutz over 10 years ago
stuck?
Stellagal over 10 years ago
OK, let’s pan back and see mom’s feet still sticking out of the end of the slide while her head is at the beginning. Insert Twilight Zone music here.
Scorchwave over 10 years ago
How did she do that? Wonder-mom?
Gokie5 over 10 years ago
Okay, that does it. I know this is too late for anyone to see (I had to watch my daughter’s two Tri-County New Horizons band concerts today), but when I took my then four-year-old grandson, “Herkimer” (who was diagnosed later with Asperger’s) tto a Burger King with a three-story play area (remember them?), he ensconced himself in the third-story crow’s nest and clamped onto the steering wheel, which he refused to relinquish to the other kids. Things got pretty wonky up there, and I saw one older lad twirl his fingers in a circle beside his own head. I started calling for Herkie to come down, but no amount of bellowing worked. Finally, I had to haul my then sixty-six-year-old carcass up through a dirty, stricky, smelly tube slide to the third-strory crow’s nest, grasp the darling, and drag him, inch by inch, struggling and shrieking, down the tube. Later, after a hamburger and drink, he apologized for his behavior.