They kind of gross me out, in principle.
But the kids and I were at one of those play centers that are full of all kinds of great fun (for kids, not so much for the parent trying to keep track of all three) with some friends tonight. And finally, I knew I had to take Baby B over to the ball pit. He'd been finding random balls all night and carrying around as many as he could hold. He even tried to heft two basketballs at one point.
He was entertained by the massive amounts of bubbles being blown by a machine off one corner of the wall for a while, though. That was a Joyful Moment watching him look up in mesmerized wonder.
Until too many bubbles popped in his eyes and he couldn't watch the bubbles any more because he had to keep rubbing them.
So, I took him to the ball pit. This was a fairly nice facility, so I told myself they disinfect their ball pit regularly, and plopped him on in.
He was in heaven. Seriously. He had so much fun just sitting int he balls, throwing the balls, and then laying back and letting himself be buried by all the balls.
Yes, it was love.
And it was a Joyful Moment to watch. As long as I didn't think about the germies.
Wishing you all clean Joyful Moments!