Last weekend I met up with a friend I’ve known since 6th or 7th grade. She has a son who is just about 6 months older than Mac. We all went to the Rosedale Library to play at their indoor “Storeyville” area.
I had never heard of Storeyville. I assumed it might be a loungey kid-friendly area with lots of books.
I was wrong.
It was the pre-school equivalent of the street scape in the New York, New York hotel in Las Vegas! It was crazy cool.
They had all these “buildings” stocked with some of the best toys I’ve ever seen. One building was a house, complete with a second story and all the trimmings. Another building was “under construction” and included blue-prints and tools. There was a grocery, an outdoor waterfront with a light house and boat. . .It was impressive.
If you live in the Baltimore area and need a free, indoor activity for the 5 and under crowd, this is a great place to check out.
I should mention, there’s also a completely separate zone for children that do not walk yet. It looks like a garden with a picket fence.
And everything looked pretty clean and neat. . .far superior to those gross ball bins at the McDonald’s or the Mall.
Anyway, our boys get along but they don’t exactly play together. . .At least not in this joint where there was so much to see. Mac really liked hanging out in the boat by the lighthouse and the gigantic photo mural of all the avocets taking flight (imagine). And my friend’s son – a little older – did a lot more roaming and actual playing.
My friend is expecting her second (due date Jan 1 YIKES) and I haven’t seen her in MONTHS. So fortunately for us, our Husbands took the boys for playtime while she and I sat on a Storeyville stoop and caught up.
Not too long after we arrived, we notice my friend’s husband standing at the “grocery checkout” holding a plastic sausage. He’s mouthing something at us and has an exasperated look on his face.
“What?!” my friend mouths back. “WHAT?!”
“What’s up with the sausage?” I ask her unable to read his lips.
“I’m not sure. Oh wait. . .Is he mouthing the words ‘Not appropriate’?”
“Why isn’t a plastic sausage appropriate for the grocery?” I ask.
A few seconds later he husband comes marching out of the grocery with their son.
“He was completely inappropriate with that sausage,” the husband says.
“How so?” asks my friend.
“Well, he took one look at it, picked it up, and screamed ‘PENIS’!” exclaims the husband.
I couldn’t help it. I was no more good. It was cracking me up.
“You taught him that.” The husband says in an accusing manner to my friend. “Now we have to worry about him screaming it in public.”
My friend calmly replies to her husband, “Yes. I taught him the word but remember YOU taught him to scream it.”