Mario,

This is how much I love you. I gave up three hours in the beautiful outdoors – 70 degrees and ocean blue skies – to stand at Magic Mountain play land and watch you run around like a spaz with your boy friends. I’m not sure Magic Mountain is any more obnoxious than Chuckee Cheese (at least it doesn’t have a life-sized rodent playing the guitar and belting out ear-piercing tunes) but it is as loud and chaotic. Moms and dads looking at iPhones trying to be lured away from reality, Magic Mountain teen employees flirting with each other and bumping into you. And kids (a majority of boys it seems) bouncing off each other and matted walls like little atoms.
I was hoping I could do a drop off but you aren’t quite at that age yet. And besides, the boy who didn’t want me near him 24 hours ago while walking in the parade now wanted me by his side and watching his every move.

“Mom, you can have some pizza! Mom, they have your favorite, chocolate cake. Mom, you will love this game!” (He knows how to get me).

But Mario had a blast with his boys and that’s what matters. He even scored a hand buzzer with the number of tickets he racked up and that was quite the gem in his eyes. He wound it up and approached me to shake my hand. I shook his hand and it buzzed rather faintly but enough you could hear it. I leaped backwards and Mario laughed.

That’s what makes these otherwise challenging parties worthwhile.