It wasn't the ghetto, forcrissakes.

Katelyn making an important phone call

Climbing truck

Scott enjoying the Spray Dragon

SLUSHIE!!!

Nathan enjoying the Spray Dragon

Crazy bridge

Lion fountain

Ship captains

At the entrance. That poor statue.

We made a family trip to Pixie Woods in Stockton last weekend - one word: AWESOME. Funny thing though, we kept reading reviews about the facility that were submitted by random folks and we repeatedly read such statements like "after you make it through the ghetto" and "you may want to duck as you're driving to get to the entrance". Seriously? I was becoming a little anxious because it is Stockton, after all. I've driven to the Stockton Children's Museum (three words: EVEN MORE AWESOME) plenty of times and know what the area can be like, so I was mentally preparing to see a battleground. I should have snapped pictures so you can see for yourself but I'll try to put you at ease about making your own visit with my words. Ready?

NOT THE GHETTO.

And in case you may still be worried - still not the ghetto.

At least not any ghetto I've seen. I like to think that, given my work history, I have seen my share all over Sacramento and even into Vallejo. Sure the houses were older and could use a little paint. There were chain link fences around most of the homes. The windows had bars over them and looked similar to the housing projects in downtown Sacramento. Don't let it keep you away. The real ghetto to me is when you are driving down the street, no matter what time of day, and there are multiple random groups of people milling around, giving you a hard look when you drive by, and even the occasional pit-bull dog running loose along the street. There might even by a police car with one officer wedging himself between his open door and the car seat telling people to leave the area, only to have these hard-looking boys come closer to him from all angles while he's radio-ing in that he needs back-up. (That's a real story, btw. Let's just say instead of visiting that client I stayed in my car and went right back to the office and counted it as a non-billable "no-show".) That's what I used to see when I worked in the ghetto.

The neighborhood on the (tiny) stretch of road that will lead you to AWESOMENESS had a man, no doubt a father, washing his minivan. A little further down the (tiny) stretch of road was a woman watering her plants. Really people. Just because there's a little dirt, a lot of metal, and a house in need of a paint job here and there - do not call it the ghetto.

Don't be afraid to visit - our family absolutely loved it!