This is supposed to be fun, right?
I am at an indoor trampoline fun park with my daughter and grandson, which should be a happy experience. My grandson is having a blast while my daughter happily chases him around, taking a steady stream of photos.
I, on the other hand, am hanging on by a weak emotional thread.
This place is not good for my mental health, there are so many lights and sounds, kids running and yelling, parents trying to wrangle kids who have just finished eating tons of sugar at a birthday party and are feeding off each other’s sugar-high.
I wish I could enjoy this experience, but all I can do is lean against a wall and try to hide my impending meltdown.
Strobe lights are battling with the lights from the video games and giant flat screens over the table area playing loud kids' music videos.
Children are dashing about, yelling, and bumping into each other. In the last 10 minutes, two separate kids have been rushed to the bathroom by harried parents as blood streams from new facial injuries, I do not know if they bit their tongues or got hit in the face. And I honestly can’t tell who is more upset, the injured kids or their startled over wrought parents.
