Jump Castle

The Farmers Market in downtown Charleston is a spectacular weekly event that runs from the beginning of April to the end of December. One can find fresh fruits and vegetables, herbs, cheeses, flowers, a variety of baked goods and jams, an assortment of breakfast and lunch options (the crepe stand is well-worth the usual 20-minute wait), arts and crafts, live entertainment, etc. It is a major Saturday morning happening.

On one Saturday morning in mid-April, we discovered the hidden gem of the Farmers Market. Well, I take that back, it's not really "hidden" so much as it is very large and brightly colored and inflated, like so:
We approached it and I got curious and began looking for someone in charge to inquire about the details and purchase some tickets. By the time I got the information I needed, Bill, Mom, and Owen had moved on and were over listening to the band (read: Bill and Mom quickly whisked Owen far away from the jump castle and attempted to distract him with some live music).

I gave up on the idea and joined them near the stage. There we were enjoying the music when this guy walked up to me and said, "Hey, I've got a bunch of extra tickets for the jump castle that we're not going to use - do you want them?" to which Bill said, "Oh, no but thanks anyw--," before I interrupted him to say, "Oh, YES we would LOVE to have them - thank you!" Signs like that one should NOT be ignored.

I picked Owen up and made a beeline for the jump castle. Bill and Mom followed behind with various protests ("I'm not sure he's big enough." "I think there are too many other kids in there." "It looks rough - I don't know if he'll be able to stand up." "He might get scared." "I think this is a bad idea.") Now, it is 100% true that I owe probably 99% of my survival in this life thus far to these two people and it is 100% true that they both know what they're talking about about 99% of the time, but I felt sure that this was one of occasions that fell into that 1% category. It was time to jump.

I told the lady at the jump castle entrance that I was going to put Owen inside, but that I might be taking him right back out if he didn't like it. She then informed me that I was WELCOME TO GET IN WITH HIM. You know, to SUPERVISE him. "Oh ok," I said, trying to act all nonchalant, "that will be good - we'll just go in together." (Internal monologue: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

For the next 30 minutes, we jumped our hearts out (our tickets were good for only 10 minutes of jumping, but upon witnessing our unadulterated delight, the ticket lady said we could stay in for as long as we wanted). Owen did not stop laughing and smiling and running and falling down and getting back up and laughing some more. He was drunk on jumping. Here we are:
This drunken giggle-fest did not stop him from making friends. Here is Owen picking up an onlooking grama of another jumper. His affection was reciprocated. I'm not kidding, he kissed her twice through the net, and she kissed him right back.
I managed to have a good time, too. You know since I HAD to be in there supervising, I just decided to MAKE THE BEST OF IT. (Very selfless of me, yes.)

In actuality, I was also drunk on jumping. (If you're judging me, it just means you haven't been in a jump castle recently. And observing others jumping DOES NOT COUNT.) I was laughing and squealing and running around just as much as Owen, if not more. I even managed to make myself useful when one set of parents (a pair who, for whatever reason, were not completely confounded by/afraid of/annoyed with me) asked me to retrieve their refusing-to-exit-the-jump-castle daughter. I really hated to sell her out like that. Sorry, girlfriend, wherever you are.

Then Bill and Mom sent the ticket lady in to carry ME out.

Just kidding.

When it was time to go (probably long past time to go, but whatever), I captured Owen and, to his great displeasure, passed him through the entrance to Bill.

We hated to leave you, jump castle, but we'll always have Paris.