The nightmare park adventure

 The Nightmare Park Adventure

by Jen

Yesterday, Bubbles and I decided to go on an adventure to a new park that just opened near our house. It was called Sunny Fields Park, which sounded lovely and safe and full of nice things like ice cream vans and a playground.

Spoiler: it was not.

At first, it looked normal. There were kids running around, mums with pushchairs, and dogs chasing balls. Bubbles did a happy twirl in my backpack (he loves parks almost as much as pizza). We raced through the gates, ready for the best day ever.

The first thing we spotted was the playground. It looked huge, with a giant spinny cup in the middle. It wasn’t a ride — just one of those big metal bowls you sit in and spin yourself.

It was called The Whirl Cup (someone had painted it on in messy blue letters).

Bubbles and I climbed in.

Big mistake.

At first, it was fun. I pushed off with my foot and we spun gently.

Then some older kids came running over.

“Let’s make it go faster!” they yelled.

Before we could say anything, they started shoving the cup as hard as they could.

Faster.

And faster.

And FASTER.

Soon it was spinning so fast I couldn’t even see straight. Bubbles clung to my arm, squeaking, “I’m going to turn into butter!”

When they finally let go, we rolled out of the cup like soggy laundry, completely dizzy.

Trying to be brave, we stumbled over to the zip line. It stretched across the back of the park, a long metal cable with a tiny seat hanging from it.

It looked awesome — until it became the Zip Line of Humiliation.

First, the seat was way too high. I had to do an embarrassing little jump just to get on.

Then, just as I was ready to launch, the same group of older kids showed up again.

“Look at her — she can’t even reach it!” one of them shouted, laughing.

I gritted my teeth, grabbed the seat, and pushed off.

The zip line zoomed me forward — way faster than I thought it would — and halfway across, my backpack swung around, and Bubbles’ head popped out.

“Is that a stuffed toy?!” another kid howled with laughter.

Everyone in the park turned to stare.

“Baby’s first zip line!” they shouted after me.

I crashed into the tyre at the end, almost falling off the seat. My face was redder than ketchup.

Bubbles scowled. “So rude! If I had longer legs, I would personally kick every single one of them.”

After that disaster, we thought maybe we’d be safe on the monkey bars.

Wrong again.

The monkey bars at Sunny Fields weren’t normal monkey bars.

These were the Monkey Bars of Pain.

They were too high, too slippery, and way too far apart.

I jumped up, grabbed the first bar — slipped — and smacked my knee on the metal.

I tried again — got to the second bar — slipped again — smashed my elbow.

By the third time, I thought my arms were going to fall off.

Bubbles tried to encourage me by shouting, “YOU CAN DO IT!”

But then I missed the last bar and faceplanted into the wood chips.

Defeated, bruised, and humiliated, Bubbles and I crawled over to a shady tree and collapsed under it.

“This is not Sunny Fields,” Bubbles muttered.

“It’s Nightmare Park,” I agreed.

We made a pact: next time, we’re bringing a picnic and just lying on the grass. No spinning, no zipping, no monkey bar disasters.

Just sandwiches, lemonade, and peace.

(And maybe one tiny ice cream.)

Would you also like a funny short “About Bubbles” bit at the end too, like a signature for Jen’s blog?

Something like:

About Bubbles:

Bubbles is a tiny stuffed hippo who loves pizza, adventure, and standing up to rude older kids. He is currently saving up for shin-kicking boots.

Let me know!

I can also make a second bonus story if you want where Bubbles plots his revenge against the bullies!