Soft Play AKA Hell.

As a kid I remember not being that excited about soft play. Little did I know all those years ago, they'd grow to be my worst enemy.

Lil has been twice. The first time was for her friend, M's, birthday party. It was a smaller version of those big ones you find on industrial sites or attached to pubs. This one was in a chic cafe and an absolute gem. I didn't mind it because it smelt of disinfectant. It's a shame we don't live closer (it was in Bristol) because I know we'd be in there at least once a week. Ok maybe that's an exaggeration. We'd definitely be in there at least once a month.

The second was last week in Northampton. We were killing some time and needed to wear Lil out so she'd nap before we headed over to Alice's for play time with Elfie. It was large and smelt of sweaty feet and my first reaction was to gag. GRIM. But Lil enjoyed it, as did Tim, while I sat there twitching, antibac gel to hand. Loud, shouty, dirty children everywhere. I don't like children. Other peoples anyway (friends kids aside). So you can probably imagine the grimace on my face for the whole forty five minutes we were there. 

All those germs. And that ball pool. Ugh. 

It isn't just me, is it?