My name is Guy Clifton and I have a problem… for I, Guy Clifton, hate (drum roll please) ball pits.
And if my 8 year old daughter is reading this I apologise for using the word “hate”. Dislike is a much better word to describe the way I feel about ball pits. I am not a fan. I dislike them profusely. In fact I believe the word “armpits” is a more appropriate description for these germ riddled Petri dishes invented by a dude named Eric McMillan some 50 odd years ago. Sorry Eric, but you have a lot to answer for.
My dislike for all things pit-related began when my daughter was quite young. It was her first birthday and one of our so-called friends or a family member (I can’t quite remember) thought it would be sweet to give the birthday girl a pop up ball pit along with about 200 cheap, plastic, multi-colored balls. I swear there are still balls floating around that house. Moving was the only way we were able to escape them. I can see how the ball pit gift was a nice idea and I’m sure my daughter had fun in it for the whole 90 seconds but what about us? Her poor, overworked and sick of housework parents. The last thing any of us need is more stuff to pick up.
Now to the second pit related whinge of this month’s column – What is the deal with public ball pits?
How, in a post-covid world these germ factories are still a thing is totally beyond me. Kids are pretty much the germiest thing going. Putting them into a pit full of mini germ vessels after a conga line of other kids have already snotted over them just doesn’t seem very 2022.
Of course, I’m being quite dramatic but those closest to me would tell you that’s kinda my default. It’s my go to. But I do believe that most parents reading this would sympathise with at least some of the pitfalls I’ve listed today. Some people are pit people. I cannot say I am one of them.
Cliffo Hit 103.5
Charlie Clifton improvising his own ball pit.