Grabbing and tickling at Ethan's ankles as he desperately tried to escape up the climbing wall was a singular highlight for me and a self-claimed "blast" for him. Did I ever really catch him? YES!! And I CONSUMED flesh and limbs... (see, told ya I was the perfect zombie!).
Then, I turned my attention to Emily, who was a tastier sweeter snack than the rough-hewn little boy meat. Pure unadulterated chasing was her favorite activity, up the slide, down the stairs, around the playground gear she taunted. Taunting even as I held her upside down, never letting up this one...
2 rolling kids, just prior to being "eaten alive"
What causes a child to love being chased? The thrill of escape? A quick-beating heart and pumping lungs reminding them they are kids with cares thrown to the wind? Or knowing that however scary Dad might be as a zombie every capture ends with a kiss?