Last night I drove over to the nickel-a-play video game place to put a deposit down for Lex’s birthday party. I got a parking spot right in front, and from where I was I could see right in the front windows. There was a guy, a pretty muscley, burley guy with a tiny infant in his arms. He was dancing. Really dancing, in the gettin down, bustin out the moves, possibly sweating way.
How cute, I thought, that this really young dad is having such a funny and sweet moment with his baby.
I went inside only to find that the boy behind the counter couldn’t help me and could I wait for the manager to return? Sure I could, so I sat and waited. The dad saw me ogling his newborn and he held her up and said, "This is my daughter!"
"She is just beautiful," I said.
"Yeah," said the dad, "she’s our sixth kid, but the first girl."
I looked a little closer and noticed that he really wasn’t all that young.
"Congratulations! That’s wonderful."
The family left soon, a tangle of boys jamming up the doorway.
I sat and looked around at the video games and wished that I had my camera. I’m all of a sudden totally looking forward to this party even though it would be more in line with my personality to dread it.
But, listen, they have PacMan and Mrs. PacMan. And everything is a nickel. My girls won’t be there, and all the kids invited are big enough to not need too much watching, so I’m going to have some fun. And kick some blinking ghost ass.