Sproing Break.

As part of our Girls Week while the boys were with Sam in Moab, I took Shianne and Mikayla over to "Jump On It."

This is a fun house type place that is stuffed into a warehouse in an industrial park.

They filled the warehouse with trampolines.

The trampolines are butted up against each other with cheap rugs and towels covering the metal outer rims of the tramps.

There are even a few trampolines leaned up against the walls, on the sides, so you can really crack your ankle good....AT AN ANGLE.

There are safety nets enclosing the area so you don't go sproinging off onto the cement floor.
Sproinging.
I bet that slips past spell check.

This whole adventure is a broken bone waiting to happen.
I already know of three kids who have ended up in the emergency room after a short visit to "Jump On It."

I am quite sure that this place is secretly sponsored by Selectmed.

It is still a really popular place, and was jam packed when we arrived in the early afternoon.

Like most tramp places, they charge by the hour, (<--see what I did there?) and I figured as soon as I hit the front door, that an hour was about all I was going to be able to take.

It smelled like feet.
And a spicy undertone of butt.

It was very loud.

My girls had their shoes and socks off before I could hastily scrawl their names on the "do not sue us" waiver.
Off they ran, half-crazed with glee!
Needless to say, the lighting was just as craptastic as the decor.

But since I am no longer concerned about getting good photos for scrapbooking, I really didn't care.
I wasn't even going to take pictures at all, until Mikayla asked me to.
What do you say when your kids ASK to be photographed?
You oblige.
Lucky the point and shoot was stuffed into the purse, covered in gum wrappers.

I sat back on the only chair up inside of the Dome of Death.
I was getting pummelled by foam balls.
It was going to be a long hour.
Until....
THIS.

There is a weight limit posted at "Jump On It."
Apparently they are a little lax on enforcing said limit.
This dude jumped heartily, and took the trampoline right down to the cement.
Sweaty Eddie just stood there.
In a hole.

Pretty soon, this dude on the staff came half running, and half skip-jumping over to the hole with some yellow hazard tape and some 2x4's to rope the busted up trampoline off with.

It took him about an hour to replace the trampoline.

In the mean time, everyone just sort-of jumped around the taped-off hole.
Sweaty Eddie felt compelled to confess to me, in my chair, and mention that he had busted through a trampoline.
(Like the whole place didn't already know.)

He said this with a measure of pride in his voice.

I told him I was sure glad it was a MAN that had happened to, because I am not sure if a woman---any woman would survive the self-esteem blow it would be to take down a trampoline.

I thanked him for the entertainment.

After my girls were good and worn out we left.

Good times had by all.