Last weekend, Campbell went to his first-ever party at Chuck-E-Hell. (If I have anything to do with it, that was also his last visit to the place.) He now thinks that Chuck-E-Hell is the best place in the world, which is kind of puzzling to me. He was terrified of the guy in the giant rat suit, he didn't understand how to play most of the video games, and he was lousy at skee-ball.
Yesterday was B's birthday. When I told Campbell that it was daddy's birthday, he asked if he could go to daddy's party. After I assured him that he could go to the party, he asked if it was at Chuck-E-Hell.
He was very disappointed that daddy's party was nothing more than cake and ice cream at home with us. When you're 3 1/2, it just isn't a party without terrible pizza, migraine-inducing music, and a teenager in a rat suit.