Nowadays, most people know that a pool of plastic balls is a cesspool. Every little kid is dirty and drools pure germs all over themselves, so it doesn’t require rocket science to know that:

[Kids] + [Pool of plastic balls which never get washed] = [A germ sewer]

While many kids saw this as a playground item full of fun and adventure, I found it quite horrifying even at a young age. I knew of the dangers the ball pits presented, yet I was too young and naive enough to really understand them. That is, until this one incident brought it to my attention!

One day, around the age of eight or nine, I was playing innocently at a McDonald’s Playplace (or similar). I had wandered a little too close to the pit, and then BAM! I felt the sweaty, peonic arm of my peer grab my wrist and drag me into the abominable sea of germs. The flash of panic and emotion swept over me too quickly to comprehend.

And it was there, while submersed in those malicious microbes, that all time stood still, and I had an omniscient view of the entire pool. What I saw cannot be properly articulated, but I can best describe it this way:

As the veil of my terror lifted, I saw a universe of brightly colored translucent balls. And around them orbited alien creatures, which I learned then were germs and harmful bacteria, as densely packed as the dust in Saturn’s rings. Occasionally, a lost soul of a child wandered by, and the microbes orbiting around them fused with the ones from the planets and increased in density by some large exponent.

My puny mind could no longer handle this much knowledge and my link broke, only to return to the terror of my physical being. You’ve never seen a kid get out of a noogie so quickly.

Henceforth, I dedicated my life to understanding what I saw that day and sharing with those who wish to know. After I took a bath, of course.