...until you are steamrolled by a bounce house. More on that later.
Yesterday my parents joined us for a fundraiser at a pumpkin patch nearby. It was pretty chilly- about 60 degrees- but the sun was shining and we were excited! Declan with Nana & Papa on the hayrack ride:
Declan got to pick out his own "pun-kin". Unfortunately, he thought they were all balls and tried kicking them. So, Mark found a cute little toddler sized pumpkin and all was well.
We were all enjoying ourselves until the screaming began. Yes, screaming. My dad and I were helping Declan in to a bounce house when we looked over to see the larger "big kid" bounce house barreling towards us. It was like a scene out of Twister. We put up our hands up to stop it and were completely leveled by the weight of it. All this time, I was horrified that Declan was under it. Though it felt like forever, the whole horrifying thing was only a few minutes long. My dad held the hundreds of pounds of bounce house off of Declan and a stranger grabbed him. All kids quickly became accounted for (there were kids inside the house too). Fortunately there were no serious injuries. It could have been BAD. My dad is banged up and I have a knee and neck injury that are pretty bothersome when "taking it easy" isn't in the vocab. This morning the pain was much worse- every inch of my body hurts. Hopefully all our injuries heal quickly. I'm pretty sure Declan won't be bouncing in or near one of those houses until he's 17.