As I was eating dinner in Chick-Fil-A tonight, I discovered something very exciting: according to The Cow, anyone shorter than 5'4" is allowed to play in the play area. (Don't worry, says Mr. Cow, if you're taller than that, you are still allowed to eat chicken!)
This tidbit of information will certainly come in handy. Just imagine, when I'm bored out of my mind this summer, I will always know that I can drive to Chick-Fil-A in minutes to have a fun-filled adventure climbing to the top of the pink, blue, green, and yellow gym-thingy.
Or, if I'm having a casual dinner with friends and a child suddenly becomes too scared to climb back down, do not fear, all of you six-foot daddies: I will come to your rescue. For I, at just shy of 5'3", may climb to the top and coax (or push down the slide, depending on how much patience I have that night) your kid down. When I'm a mother (or an aunt), this ability will certainly come in handy for use with my own kids.
Or just imagine me at 74, tottering after my grandkids (or grand nieces and nephews). "Wait for me, sh-unny!" Oops, there goes a denture. Wobble, wobble. By then I will probably even be just shy of 5', so there will be no problem whatsoever when it comes to allowing me to climb that net rope ladder. True, the cane may be a bit of a hassle. But I have definitely got that height thing covered!
Just as long as they don't add a weight requirement, I'm set for life...
4 comments:
Hey you are not posting enough!
Did you hear Allison is married?
Okay, Elizabeth, I am 5'4" and shrinking. I am 74, can I play with you in the kiddie section when we come up north?
Grandma
Sure, Grandma! :-)
So, I realized that the sign in Chik-fil-A actually says 54". I must need to get my eyes checked. I suppose it's possible to shrink eight inches in a life time. The concept's still a humorous prospect, nonetheless.
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