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My In-laws Have a Bouncy Castle in Their Basement
On the abundant love of grandparents
Let me begin by stating that I absolutely adore my husband’s parents. They are wonderful people and this is by no means a commentary on their character or my love for them.
These people who I and my son and my husband so love have a bouncy castle in their basement — a full-size bouncy castle complete with towering yellow turrets and red walls and oodles of balls covering the squishy, bouncy floor. I went in there once to get my son out and ended up staying for twenty minutes. (In case you’re wondering, you’re never too old to play in a bouncy castle.)
My in-laws also feed my son cupcakes and chicken nuggets and cotton candy and probably hotdogs made out of chicken tails and gerbil feet.
There are no less than three swingsets and jungle gym climbers in their backyard, along with pedal cars, tricycles, bicycles, and scooters. And the inside of their home looks as if they bought out the toy departments of four Costcos and a Walmart.
I’m thrilled that they love him that much. I’m ecstatic that he loves it so. But how the heck are we supposed to compete with that kind of kid heaven?
I know. I know. Grandparents are supposed to spoil their grandchildren. It’s the way of the…
