Bye bye ball pits!

Toddlers of the '90s used to get together to crawl around in ball pits while their mothers (and dads) floundered beside them at the neighborhood indoor play gym. I know this to be true, because my older kids experienced these vinyl-padded play zones from time to time. You know, the hippest preschoolers would be found there, clinging with their little sockless toes to the netted "walls," some trying not to get dragged down into the colored-globe abyss. Once the grip was lost, though, they were goners. The watchful parent had to stop yakking to the other kid's mom long enough to grab an appendage and yank the child up before they were gone from sight completely. (No socks allowed in those days, recalls Eldest. No one wanted to fish around for them after they fell off your feet.)

For some reason, the subject came up today and Youngest bulged out her eyes in my direction and said, "Ball Pit? What's a ball pit? I want to see one!" Caught me off guard, though, since the safety-police part of my brain filed away those ball pits (indoor play zones in general) sometime shortly after Middle kid contracted pneumonia and RSV and was hospitalized a day after playing hard at the play zone in the mall. Yes, she'd had a mild fever for a couple of days prior and was, I thought, free and clear. But that's all that poor kid needed and ZAM! She was under a medical team's 24-hour care for two and a half days in the pediatrics ward. Those were the days! (Youngest wasn't born at the time. Been there, done that, in my mind, so I feel like saying "sorry kid, they don't make those any more." Do they?)

Google the phrase and you'll get one of several parent chat sites -- Paraphrased First mom: "desperately seeking play zone options for child's birthday" -- Another mom: "Don't go there, don't you know that people were leaving syringes on the saggy floors underneath all the happy rainbow balls?" Third mom: "What about feces, vomit, plain old invisible, nasty germs?" Snopes.com will tell you that a story of a 3 year old dying after getting pricked with a heroin needle in a ball pit is false. Other sites suggest vague "safety concerns" and Wikepedia claims that Chuck E. Cheese discontinued offering ball pits, as balls would wind up in little kids' personal belongings and leave the building. Ain't no fun in a too-shallow ball pit, now is there? No point whatsoever to the pit-ball belly flop or hide and go seek if your hair's sticking out where someone can easily spot you!

But they're such a clever idea. Fun for all ages! Hygienic nightmare, for sure. So these days, I guess some parents order mini sets for their little ones to play in at home. (Let's see - how many small children would enjoy a 32-inch wide, plastic fence thing? (Only $200 more for 1,000 3-inch "crushproof" balls to fully cover a little tyke) There's also a nylon tent-like thing available with at 19-inch diameter tunnel connecting the two taller ends. Sounds small to me. And it could be rather tricky getting a little person out of the middle of the tunnel part if something would go wrong. Does it all fit in the washer if someone has an accident?

No, these days the closest we can get to something like this is the indoor, inflated bouncy town across the city from our house. And if you don't bring a clean pair of socks for your feet, they make you buy theirs out of a shiny glass case. We've come a long way since the late '90s, wouldn't you say?

I won't speak this idea aloud at home, just yet, but why don't we convert the storage room into a padded ball pit area just for the family? Christmas 2011 could be a bunch of fun when we lead the kids from a gift-less tree down to the basement. Surprise! Only 5,000 balls and $1,000 later (not counting the vinyl padding on the walls), won't we be having a very jolly holiday? But the neighbors can't come, sorry to say. Too many safety concerns.