Fast Food Playhouse of Horror

So you all know I'm one of those laid-back sort of dads, right? I don't go all bonkers when Kaitlyn falls and scrapes her knee. I toss her ten feet in the air on the sidewalk confident in my ability to catch her. I don't shout when the kids in class are playing rough; besides, they probably learned it from her.

But I do draw the line at older kids trying to toss my little girl around. Case in point: the local fast food playground.

You know these things: small places where parents can presumably take their toddlers to burn off those 1,200 calorie kid's meals while Mom and Dad check email on their iPhone. Kids run around, sliding down slides, playing in make-believe cars and rolling around in ball tosses. Harmless, right?

Well, you know the rules of these places, right? Sure, they've got something on the wall about age limits, unaccompanied children, running, strangling with the balloon strings and other mumbo-jumbo that their lawyers told them to write. But you know the real rules?

There are none.

Parents scope out the prime seats on the opposite side of the glass from these human hamster farms so they can say they're watching their kid when they're really spiking their fountain drink with mini bottles of Schnapps and Absolut. In the meantime, their little terror(s) is/are running up the enclosed slide, pushing other unwatched kids down the stairs in an attempt to not be "it" in an all-out game of tag and screaming louder than their mothers during childbirth.

And you know where Kaitlyn is during all this? Huddled in the corner of the suspended-in-mid-air-race-car, frozen because she's scared out of her wits. Tonight, before the mayhem ensued, she made her way -- laughing, mind you -- up the stairs and into the hamster tunnels before a group of kids (five or six, all above age 7) came in and proceeded to climb all over the place, through every conceivable hole in the play room.

Kaitlyn was stuck up there for what seemed like forever, but was probably something like three or four minutes. I would try to guide her down one way, but there was a screaming child. Not crying screaming, just screaming for reasons only his therapist understands. I tried to direct her to the slide before not one, but three of the snot noses ran up. I looked around for some parental unit to interject, but I was the only one in the damn playroom.

I finally got her out and she looked at me and said, "I go home now." So much for the couple minutes of fun I promised her. I even asked if she wanted to play at home with Daddy, but she said no. "Lay down with my binkie," she whimpered.

So I would just like to say thanks not only to the half-dozen kids who ruined my daughter's five-minute treat for eating her dinner, but also to the parent(s) of those kids. I thought I was unassuming and aloof when it came to Kaitlyn, but you people truly take the cake.

Who Wants to Go for a Run?

Ed. Note: I sent this email earlier this evening as a result of some news I got this week. Thought it was Growing Up Kaitlyn-worthy. Enjoy.

Dear Friends:

While you are getting this email from Michelle, it's actually James. I didn't have all your email accounts in my address book, so I hijacked my wife's email for this very important announcement.

As you may or may not know, I am a bottomless pit when it comes to food. I eat anything and everything. There's Papa John's The Meats pizza, the entire dollar menu at McDonald's, bottomless Garlic Parmesan Fries at Red Robin, the Tour of Italy at Olive Garden, a Joey Bag of Donuts at Moe's, the Great Wall of Chocolate at PF Chang's and countless other foods that, without my support, would likely be taken off menus across this great nation. I do, however, draw the line at Costco-brand dim-sum (thanks, Joe).

Because my body's metabolism has allowed me to eat these wonderfully sinful foods without gaining more than four or five pounds in any given calendar year since I was 15, I never saw the affect any of this was having on my health. Never looked at weight as a problem, never had a total workup during a physical because doctors told me, "You look fine. Anything wrong?" and the answer was no; never had my cholesterol checked, mostly out of fear the nurse reading the results would have a coronary just by looking at the high numbers.

All this changed, however, in my return from semi-retirement. In order to get lower health insurance costs, I had to participate in the company's wellness program. That required getting blood drawn and tests done. The results came back this week. And I need some help.

Apparently, all my fast food friends weren't actually my friends. Can you believe a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese isn't good for you? Yeah, I know. This will in all likelihood end my quest to becoming the next Deep Fried Ambassador. My cholesterol levels are -- how to put this -- higher than Tim Lincecum at HempCon. In plain English, I need to get healthier. And one of those ways is to (brace yourselves) start running again. *GASP*

I figured there's no better motivation than money. I am already dropping the $25 to register for the 2nd Annual Running for the Green on May 22, a 5K that benefits the Greensboro Children's Museum. I figured that not only will I have the motivation to run because I don't want to lose the money, but I would also be giving the money to a good cause -- one that the family will benefit from since we love bringing Kaitlyn to the museum.

So the offer to you is simple: come run with me. It's a mere three miles through Fisher Park on a Saturday morning. If you run with me, I'll even provide my home and the food for a grilling party that afternoon. Heck, come out and support everyone who's running and you too can come to the house (bring your own food though, slacker).

I have 13 weeks to get myself into some semblance of shape (and no, "round" doesn't count). Michelle might even come out and support me if you all bug her enough. But she won't run -- remember the Cannonball?

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Talk to you all soon. Later -- James.