FEBRUARY 17, 2026 – On the main drag in Old Saybrook, 11 miles to the south, is an establishment called, Peek-A-Boo Play Café. The clever business concept is a large and varied play area designed for kids from 2 to 12, with adjacent tables, chairs, stools and counters for parents (and grandparents) to occupy while they keep tabs on their kids (grandkids), and a full-service coffee bar just a few feet away, where parents (and grandparents) can reward themselves with a cup of gourmet tea or coffee off an expansive menu replete with flavors molto esotico, such as Acero soffuso organico Capistrano e cioccolato bianco and Capaccino Americano con noce moscata. Actually, I’m just making up the Italian labels, but not the prices, which, suggested to me that the coffee bar was definitely a profit center.
The main attraction—the play area—consisted of a row of village shops—a diner, a pet salon, a hair salon, a grocery store and a boutique “under construction.” Together they were enough to make me wish I were seventy again—but without the zero. I was equally taken by the kid’s push-pedal version of a Vespa and another kid version of a self-propelled four-wheeler. Then there was the rocket ship in the corner, the excavator in the opposite corner, a scaled-down model of a house trailer true to the details of the real thing and a wide assortment of other attractions, including a table train, a kids’ jungle gym and a ball pit.
On our most recently previous trip to CT we gave the family an “anytime pass” to Peek-A-Boo Play Café, and as demonstrated by our grandson’s familiarity with the play options, the pass was a sound investment.
Beth shed her shoes so she could accompany the crown prince from one end of the play area to the other, stopping at nearly every station in between. As Mylène and I watched from the sideline, I mused aloud about an older person’s dream version of the place—including the party room for birthday parties with all the treats and trappings, doubtless another profit center. Except the old folks facility, of course, would have appropriate modifications, starting with the name: Creak-A-Boo Play Café. The little village would consist of a model pharmacy, a pretend PT/OT center, a geriatrician’s office, and a small food mart featuring prune products and sodium substitutes.
The play area would include a push-pedal Vespa and four-wheeler, but they’d be equipped with swivel seats and easy-slow gearing. The ball pit would feature aqua-colored plastic to simulate a swimming pool, and the “high board” would be a mere 18 inches off the “surface.” Instead of steps, the deck end of the board would be a long ramp, with handrails extending all the way to the end. Under the supervision of a 50-something “lifeguard,” qualified seniors could dive into the ball pit and swim to the other end—without the nuisance of getting wet.
In the center of Creak-A-Boo would be three large squares: one for large-piece chess and checkers; another for Scrabble with tiles a foot square; and a third for over-sized interchangeable bingo cards. For easy transit from one part of the play area to another, a large-scale model train with assisted boarding and off-loading would wind its way slowly around the perimeter and through the center of the play area. Stops could be requested by a remote on a lanyard handed out to each senior in the play center.
The adjacent party room would be decorated with nostalgia from the 50s and 60s, along with a jukebox belting out a full complement of top hits from that era. For the “kids” watching their parents, the coffee bar of Peek-A-Boo could be duplicated in its totality.
As a frequent patron of Peek-A-Boo, Mylène had quite a bit of reliable information about customer traffic during the seven days a week that the place is open. We did some rough estimates of gross revenue, and I later guessed at employee expenses—all in—based on the observable staff-to-kids ratio, included some lease and GSA assumptions, made a stab at liability and lessee’s property insurance, threw in a number for annual professional expenses (legal and accounting), amortized the initial build-outs, and plugged in 15% for “miscellaneous expenses.” The coffee bar, of course, had its only financial profile, but I assumed that at a minimum, given the price list, tea, coffee and pastries generated at least a 20% pre-tax net profit.
At the end of my thumbnail-sketch analysis, I figured making a go of the enterprise was possible, but as a stand-alone business, it probably wasn’t making the owners wealthy. On the other hand, it seemed to have franchise possibilities, and though franchising is no financial panacea, it does hold the possibility of transforming a viable business concept into a highly successful one by way of branding and the multiplier effect.
Plus, stirring in the background was the potential of Phase II: Creak-A-Boo Play Café.
In the meantime, I’m happy seeing our gift pass pay its dividends in the form of our grandson’s delight—and his parents’ chance to take somewhat of a breather while they sip their fancy lattès. And may the proprietors succeed in their endeavor. I wish them all the success their creative plan and impressive execution deserve.
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© 2026 by Eric Nilsson
