Zoo Me

I am the best mom in the world. The reason? Because I unselfishly go to the places I LEAST like to go. The thing is, I don't remember I don't like them until I am actually THERE. I feverishly plan these excursions...and for the most part, with enthusiasm and gusto.

Maybe I overestimate the "fun" and underestimate the "feek" (a/k/a Emma). Maybe I used to enjoy these places before I had an overactive toddler jumping out of her stroller and running around like a patient broke loose from the Amityville Insane Asylum (circa 1901).

At any rate. Today was no different. I had plans to go to the beach, however, the weather deterred me. A friend mentioned she was going to the zoo. (she has a zoo MEMBERSHIP...and legitimately ENJOYS the zoo. She also has a library card and is actually a better mother than I)

I tell the kids we would be taking a trip to the zoo. My eldest daughter doth protest. She, like myself, is lazy and is concerned about "all the walking."

When we get to the zoo, we were lucky enough to get in with the membership. I guess we passed as a unisex couple. We also sort of looked like a mixed race family. I bore the little tan ones, she, the light freckled ones. It was totally believable and I was the wife.

As we passed through the gates, Emma had only tried to jump the side of her stroller once from the parking lot. I thought I may get lucky (or the dose of Tylenol I gave her before vacating the house kicked in)

Immediately to the left was the stroller and wheelchair rental. I wanted so badly to be pushed around the park in a wheelchair. If my real husband had been there, I may have offered a little "somethin somethin" if he agreed to push me through the park.

I found the first exhibit most interesting. Not the animals, but the way the zoo strategically placed the carnivorous, zebra eating African wild dogs right next door to the zebra exhibit,

Why would they do that? Would the zebra smell drive the dogs completely mad? Would they make them more interesting to watch?

That was it for MY level of animal interest. I was much more interested in the patrons. Much like I was when I spent my afternoon at the playground. (oh, except for the snake eating a mouse...that was pretty cool)

There are not many places I frequent where there are this many people for me to gawk at and criticize. I know I am no fashionista or beauty queen, but this is not about me.

I want to conduct a social experiment and determine WHY patrons of zoos, parks, and the likes attract the people that they attract. These places are not cheap. (says the woman who sneaked in as a lesbian).

The hair. The outfits. I fit right in. My hair was in a sloppy pony, and a 10 year old informed me halfway through that my tank top was on inside out. oops. (maybe its a little about me)

My feet began to hurt at the elephant exhibit. I was ready to take the kids to the auto exhibit....you know...the one through the exit gate. My girls looked forward to the elephant exhibit the most....for no other reason than to try and get lucky enough to see one urinate.

Emma, at this point, had been in and out of the carriage more times than I could count. A woman also in our "group" had a 6 month old who, through the duration, sat quietly and observantly and not once reached for her mothers breast with her mouth open wide. I wished for a second I could switch the babies out...they were about the same size...and I could switch them back at the end of the trip.

Topping it off was the woman we were two steps behind during our trip. Each time we caught up with her, she was nursing her (maybe two month old) baby under a pretty nursing cape. Fine by me except the sight of her caused me to lactate. Thank goodness for the extra padded bras I sport these days. I was frightened that the baby goat in the farm area was going to get a wiff of me and jump the flimsy railing.

Next up...my kids wanted to eat. I had promised them a Dels, however none of the stands took debit cards. They had to settle for something at the real snack restaurant. (I had foolishly left my snacks in the car...and therefore HAD to purchase food) I was appalled, but not surprised to find a tiny hotdog and small fries cost me $8. And I had to buy two.

OK, I had enough. My uncomfy flip flops, milk soaked padded bra and inside out wife beater needed to bust a move out that zoo. Several more exhibits to go and I was home free....three hours later. With a smile on my face and a spring in my step, we sailed across the parking lot to the animal I affectionately call car. In we went, tired, dirty, smelly and happy.