At The Trampoline Place

“Mama, are we still going to the trampoline place today?” Raven asked. I was lying on the couch in the morning. Burrowed in my oodie because even though it’s officially summer, the cloudy day lent a certain chill in the air that makes me want to hibernate like it’s winter all over again.

“I don’t know, baby,” I said. “Ask your papa.”

A cop out.

Truth be told, I just wanted to stay right where I was and, I don’t know, maybe take a nap or something. Jeff said we could go. Stop by at Springvale for lunch on the way. I died a little bit inside, but resurrected my spirits at the thought of deep fried squid at this drab Vietnamese restaurant I like. That, and a regular-sized Healthy Cup oolong milktea with pearls and lychee bobba balls — half sugar, half ice. My latest guilty pleasure.

Some days, that’s enough to look forward to, isn’t it?

Later we found ourselves in the carpark outside Rush HQ Indoor Adventure Park. Quite a mouthful of a name for a trampoline place. Jeff begged to just chill for 10 minutes. What he really wanted was time to digest all the lok lak he ate, plus the hopia and coffee he had for dessert straight after.

In the meantime, I sat there in the car taking selfies and admiring the DB Cosmetics blusher that was gifted to me by Ate Lorna. It’s in the shade Peach Glow and I was seriously loving it. The light was awesome, as well, so that really helped my case. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be posting them here at all.

Behind me, the cheeky cat did what she does best — being cute and annoying Jeff with questions on when we can go in already because she’s excited and was getting bored being stuck in the car with a mum who was busy taking selfies and a dad actively trying to get some sleep.

By the time we got there, she was pumped. Her and Jeff. Running around the place trying out the different areas. Jumping up and down and all around. Diving into the foam pit and going on the bouncy slides while I walk after them, the grippy company-issued socks feeling like velcro against the plastic floor, taking their photos as I go.

I like trampolines. I really do. I think they’re fun.

But the truth?

All that jumping makes me wanna pee a little. That paranoia takes away half the fun.

Although it didn’t stop me from plopping myself in the foam pit. And that didn’t stop Jeff from eagerly hurling foam blocks at me. Too eager that it almost felt like there was hate playing underneath his laughter, too.

Same goes for the ball he threw that landed on my face.

It’s all fun and games until he catches a flying plate at home, hey?

*Raven at 5 years old (Jeff acting like one)

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