Funky Fun House of Love

It looked like rain, so I took the kids to the Funky Fun House, billed as Cambridge's "premier children's indoor play center." Their mascot is Harry the Cat, how bad could it be. It was an eye-opening trip on many fronts.

1. This contained, huge, padded spaced where moms sip complementary tea while their children run wild, is a popular spot for playgroups. And today I really missed mine, particularly since my attempts to chat-up a few ladies were largely brushed aside. No, don't cry for me Argentina. I expected it. It's just that way here. People aren't cold, they're just not very inviting. Better luck next time.

2. Harry and Charlotte of course loved it. We spent four hours at Funky, where (grrr) you are not allowed to bring any of your own food. Admission is 3.75 quid a kid, then if you stay long enough to recoup your admission price, you buy lunch. But what I was happy to discover is that these British mums have it down. No hotdogs and crappola. This place serves a hot lunch to your table, which is not segregated from the play area, but right in it. The kids had homemade chicken tenders, peas and chips. Harry actually gushed "mommy...this is DELICOUS!." If only I had made it myself, I'd have been moved to tears. So why don't we have this kind of play-place set-up in the US? Please, someone, start a franchise.

3. My daughter is a minx. Just before leaving, Charlotte introduced me to Sawyer, her 4-year-old beau of 5 minutes. Sawyer was positively taken by my girl. Now if you'll please read this quote with a pre-pubescent British accent, Sawyer wrapped his arms around Charlotte (a hug that was returned in full) and pleaded "would you like to go to my car for a cuddle?" I DIED! Paul is ready to book our tickets back to America. As we left, little Sawyer begged Charlotte to visit again, more hugs, more lament. The pint-sized lothario is pictured at right, snuggling with my baby. I'm not sure I've yet recovered.