Do NOT let this happen to you...

This is embarrassing to admit but I have a monkey on my back. Actually it is more of a mouse than a monkey, but I am finally ready to admit that I have a problem. You may try to guess that the mouse might be "The Mouse"...you know...M-O-U-S-EEEEEEEE, but it isn't him. My mouse is the illegitimate child of the second cousin to Mickey. Yes, I am talking about the 6 foot 2 inch tall rodent that IS Charles Emerson Cheese. Known only to his closest friends as Chuck E. (Truth be told I do have an affinity for the grandaddy of all mice, and his good pal Goofy, but that is for another day)

It started out as a friendly sort of thing. A birthday party here, a t-ball gathering there. Now I have moved onto the hard stuff...fund raising for schools. Oh sure I can pretend I have the best of intentions and only want to support them by donating 15% of the proceeds of the night to our schools, but actually I am there for the coins.

"But Honey, if we only spend another 8 dollars we get an additional 100 tokens!"

I know the only place they are useful is this place, but I still feel like Bill Gates when I walk away from the counter with TWO plastic cups filled with little counterfeit quarters. I mean it's like I have discovered another country where the exchange rate is ridiculously in my favor! This is get-a-lobster-dinner-for-72-cents good.

But let's face it, even if you were to spend your entire take home pay on tokens, play skeeball until you needed carpal tunnel surgery, and win enough tickets to fill a wheelbarrow, you would still only be able to walk out of there with a miniature lava lamp filled with glitter and three Tootsie Rolls. But still, it's like a casino in there! Pay for the pizza and wait for the coin dispenser to start paying off! Chingching chingchingching ching ching chingchingching...98, 99, 100...101! HAH! It gave us an extra! In YOUR Face!! I stuck it to The Man! Ok, breathe, breathe, happy place, happy place, serenity now. fooooooo.

Well I have sunk to a new low. True story. The kid who delivers the pizzas to the table has recognized me. "Hey sir. Weren't you here at the beginning of the week?" Busted! "Yes." I meekly offer. "We are here for another school's fund raiser." But he just gave me a sideways glance and walked away leaving me there with my shame, and my single order of buffalo wings.

There it is. My rock bottom. I have sunk to a new low. I am done. Cold turkey (sandwiches). I shall not darken their door ever again. Get thee behind me Mouse! I can do it, one day at a time...until I tuck my son into bed tonight. Unprovoked and unaware he declares, "Dad, we should go to Chuck E. Cheese more often! I am getting really good at the games!"

Curses!!

I need some sleep. Anybody want to buy a slightly used miniature lava lamp?