Yester morn, four hours after sunrise, we journeyed our way to a soft play centre. The inclement weather having decreed that we should pursue our day’s entertainment within doors. Upon arrival, lo! Such a din! I vouched I could behold each and every infant and child of the parish within the soft play facility.
A young dark-haired woman, who I determined to be of between 19 and 20 years of age, informed us our payment should be lower as this very day was Two Quid Tuesday. Once we had relieved ourselves of six pound sterling we were granted entry to the premises. Within a short period of time my young charges had discarded their footwear and were availing themselves of the most extensive range of padded play equipment.
I took charge of my youngest and did accompany her amidst the throng of activity and playfulness. On occasion I felt obliged to scold a wayward child for forceful or over-exuberant behaviour which happened a detriment upon my children. In these such moments I did ponder the whereabouts of the said child’s parent or guardian. Previous visits to soft play centres have accustomed me to the nature of certain persons who make themselves unavailable to the needs of their children. It saddens me so to see soft play foundlings
Once an hour of our time had passed I did inform my children we should leave the soft play centre. And this did cause much disquiet, dischord and distress among them. However I was very much forceful in my decision as the din of the soft play centre had caused me great pain within my head. And if the pain had been permitted to continue I should have been forced to consult my physician and therefore been rendered verily unsuited to further mothering duty that day.
First published on Babyrambles blog 24th August 2011