And I can only blame myself.
Not having arranged a playdate today and clued in to today's reality by the number of times my belly/head/back was bounced on this morning as I was trying to convince myself that the boys could handle my lying in bed just a little while longer, I decided to try out the closest Jungle Java. I've been to Castaway Cafe in Howell before, and that was great for both boys and me, but I didn't really feel like driving for more than an hour when there was something similar only twenty-two minutes away in West Bloomfield.
By something similar, we're talking about the level of similarity between a lush, creamy bar of Swiss chocolate and a Hershey's Kiss.
Castaway Cafe is HUGE. You can pack dozens of children in there and still their noise simply echoes dimly and fades away, creating a lively but bearable background. You can sit close up in comfy armchairs or farther away in (surprisingly comfortable) plastic ones at tables. The air space in that place just swallows up the worst of the chaos.
Jungle Java...well, let's just say that it doesn't match up. My rear now has what I fear may be a permanent waffle pattern from the stupid chair I had to use because the comfy ones were only by the tiny toddler area and therefore would completely cut off my view of the larger play area where my discriminating children were playing. That play area was only a fraction of the size of CC's. So was the entire place. As a result, the shrieks and screams of rambunctious tots was amplified as they bounced off the walls. My head feels like an overripe melon.
It's a good thing the boys tired themselves out and are willing to veg on the couch watching Pinky Dinky Doo.
I'm cursing the weather, because if it hadn't decided to be all grey and cloudy and threaten rain all day, I would have taken them to Erwin's Orchards instead, where we could have been outside for just as long with far less trauma to my eardrums. And maybe we could have brought back some raspberries.
I would pout, but I don't need any more wrinkles on my face. Besides, about three million people told me how adorable my boylets are, especially my curly-headed Widget, and that means I just can't be all that grouchy. It's good to know there are so many perceptive individuals out there.
Ah, for quieter times...My adorable boys at Erwin's last week