2+2 = 4

It's probably been 26 years since I was giddy about going to Chuck E Cheese. I went last night with the doctor and his two little girls, and I have to say, I was excited about it all day. Probably not the same sort of excitement I felt when I was eight. Back then it was the pizza and the candy and the games that made me drool with anticipation. This time it was the love of one particular dad that was making me weak in the knees and ready to subject myself to the scrutiny of a 7 and a 4 year old.

I changed my clothes at least three times, which is completely stupid, given the chances they were even going to even remember much less care what I was wearing. Turtleneck? Too stuffy looking. Work clothes? Too professional. Short skirt – wrong target audience (the doctor yes, girls no). Khaki pants and layered t-shirts was the final verdict, with my cute black flats that I haven't gotten to wear in months because of the obnoxious Midwestern snow drifts and arctic temperatures that make anything except for knee-high waterproof snow boots impossible to consider. Hurray for global warming!

Internal kid-friendly dialogs were running through my head. What were we going to talk about? School? Friends? Their favorite doll? I am ill-equipped to have those conversations. I don't know what kids think about. I've never cared what any of them think, much less what they think about me. Children are unfamiliar territory. Normally I just treat kids like adults and they seem to like that. I don't do baby talk or parental condescension. I always hated those people when I was a kid. I remember at around age 10 how my friend's mom used to always talk to us like we were 3 when I was at least 10 and well beyond the cutesy-baby talk. It was infuriating, and it made me want to be grown-up obnoxious. I distinctly remember informing her one day that her house stunk and so did she because she smoked too much. She told me I was rather rude - which was true – but it did kill the baby talk for a while.

When I got to the doctor's apartment I took a deep breath before calling him to say I had arrived. He let me in and two little red-headed faces smiled shyly from the kitchen table where they were coloring or doing school work or something like it. I introduced myself rather awkwardly. Fortunately the doctor was cheery and knew how to better engage them than I did. Thank God he didn't let me remain standing there like an awkward, silent idiot for too long. Before long we were putting on pink coats and pink shoes with sparkles that lit up when they walked. I told them their shoes were cool, and I meant it. I never got sparkly, light-up shoes when I was a kid (I do distinctly remember begging for jelly shoes, a pair of clogs and a pair of knee-high 70's style brown vinyl boots – all of which I eventually got) , and if I didn't think they would look absolutely ridiculous, I would buy myself a pair now. Can you imagine me out for a run in my sparkle, light-up shoes? I think when I am old I am going to get myself a pair. I am going to be one cool old person. Kids on the other hand will probably think I'm a nutty old lady.

But for now I'm just a normal, boring grown-up in black flats that neither sparkle nor light-up, and I am incredibly paranoid about how to talk to these kids. If they don't think I'm stupid, will he? Will I say something that makes it all-too-obvious that I am not parent (or step-parent) material? Something that plants a seed of reservation about my worthiness as a partner and potential surrogate mum? I keep reminding myself that I normally get along just fine with kids, and that I should just be myself, but I remain wrapped in my wet blanket of silent and awkwardness.

Fortunately these two pink-clad, sparkly fire-crackers don't seem to care that I am not my bubbly self, apparently satisfied by the promise of tokens and rides. The early part of the night was rather quiet in terms of conversation between me and them. But I was being watched. Two little pairs of eyes were watching me at all times. Checking me out. They're nothing if not their father's daughters.

I have to say that Chuck E's has modernized a bit since when I was 8. It's still the same old pizza and candy and goofy kiddie rides – but there are some distinct high-tech additions for today's modern tots. Rides that take your picture, or give you a secret CSI photo ID, and a place to dance to your own kid-friendly music video. That's pretty awesome. I think my favorite was a ride that makes you feel like you're on an actual roller coaster. You recline inside a compartment in front of a screen with the image of a roller coaster track. The video on the screen gives you the perspective of being seated in one of the front cars – and as it climbs and turns and flies down the track the seats shake and move – and the combined sight, sound and motion make for a pretty realistic sensation that you actually ARE on a roller coaster. I was impressed. I went on it once with the older of the two girls, and then – with the "let's do it again" mentality of children – they decided to go on it together. I was standing behind them supervising when their dad came up behind me and, taking advantage of the fact that both pairs of eyes were simultaneously occupied, looked at me in just that "you're wonderful" sort of way, and kissed me. Man. Who needs roller coasters ?