Sounds rather kinky, doesn't it? OK, get your minds out of the gutter! Geesh! I'm talking about play dates. You know, those things that moms schedule sometimes years in advance, for your child and another to get together to, well, play. When we were kids, it was, "Hey mom, I'm riding my bike over to Christy's, see ya before dark." You were lucky to get a "Be Careful" as you headed out the door. Now a days, you have to have a long conversation with the other mom and ask questions such as:
- Do you keep guns in the house?
- Do you have a set of fingerprints on file with the FBI?
- How old is your house and have you tested for lead paint?
- You do not have any peanuts, gluten, whole milk or sugar in the house, do you?
Am I coming close? Oh, and let's forget about the childhood ecstasy of playing in the mud, too dirty and too sunny. How about riding bikes up to K-Mart for a Slurpee? Nope, we can't get the employees fingerprints from the FBI quick enough.
So our kids are forced to sit on the computer during play dates, playing Webkinz. They can swing on the swingset (which was not made from pre-treated lumber which is cancer causing) but only in five minute increments so that they do not catch too many rays from the sun. Yep, our kids get their Vitamin D from soy yogurt, not from the sun.
What the hell is this world coming to? Why cant kids just go and play? Why does it have to be a play "date"? I don't know about you, but my head is hurting just thinking about this, so I'm going to go get on my bike and ride up to Starbuck's.
(Come back and visit Sex and the Soccer Mom every day for more ramblings)
No comments:
Post a Comment