Yeah, so, on Friday night, we dropped mighty, mighty good boy Calvin off at the Peek-A-Boo Factory in West Portal for their monthly date night.
Basically, we pay $35, drop Calvin off, and he runs around on their play structure for three hours. They serve pizza that he won’t eat, and they do crafts that he doesn’t really care about. He just wants to go down the long, red slide for three hours.
Anyway, we dropped him off as usual and walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. After dinner, we went to a bar across the street from Peek-A-Boo to grab a drink. We ran into another set of parents from Calvin’s preschool. They dropped their son off at Peek-A-Boo as well, and they were a little nervous because they had never done it before.
“Calvin loves it,” we told them. “It’s awesome.”
We chatted for a bit, and then they left because they wanted to pick their son up a little early, since it was his first time. I laughed and said, “Well, we’re going to wait until the very last second to pick up Calvin.”
And right then, mighty, mighty good man David noticed that Peek-A-Boo had called. Calvin was crying and upset, and they didn’t know why. D’oh!
We went across the street, and we could see him through the locked glass doors. He was crying. When they let us in, he ran into my arms sobbing. One of the employees, who always gives Calvin special attention at these date nights, had no idea what was wrong.
“He’s always so happy,” she told us.
While we were heading home, Calvin said, “I got locked in the trailer,” which is something that happened at my parents’ house the week before. My dad has a trailer on the side of the house, and Calvin was playing in it, and he accidentally locked himself in it for about a minute.
I thought maybe he got locked in the restroom at Peek-A-Boo, and this is his way of telling us.
“Did you get locked in the bathroom at the red slide, Calvin,” I asked. “Red slide” is what he calls Peek-A-Boo Factory.
“No,” he replied. “I got locked in the trailer at Grandma’s.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s scary.”
“There’s a ghost in the trailer,” he said.
“There’s a ghost in the trailer?” I repeated.
I texted my mom. “Your trailer is haunted. FYI.”
My dad loves to kill things, so I’m not sure how he will deal with something that is already dead living in his trailer, but I’m sure he’ll figure it out.
It turned out that Calvin wasn’t feeling very well. He had a fever by the time we got home, and he was off and on feverish all day Saturday. Poor little guy.