The Place of the Young.
Oh, today was a day for the young. It was a zoo day. We haven’t been since Ewan was snuggled down in his Baby Bjorn and it was a chilly, chilly day. But today. Today was beautiful, with just enough cloud cover to enjoy the spaces of path uncovered by shade from trees but not enough to go sans sunscreen. So off we went, my friend with her two boys and me with mine, smelling like the cocoa butter and in search of lions.
Ewan lit up like fireworks on Independence Day. And my oh my, doesn’t he look manly in his snappy cap and with his pink sippy cup. Hey. We just grab whatever works around here.
My oldest and his good friend felt rather kingly being this close to the sleeping man of the lion’s den. And yes, the goofy Holden faces are back. How on Earth does this face feel when he makes it? Does it feel happy? It looks like it hurts.
And the mop of hair has since been trimmed, by the way, much to his dismay. He wanted the back left long and argued tenaciously for it, but I did my civic duty and explained that there would be absolutely no “party in the back” while he was living under our roof.
I think he’s moving out next week.
Ewan, on the other hand, was only concerned with the giraffes. They were his favorite. I was scolded harshly for moving on, but then rewarded with this face when he realized we were stopping for a snack. And to feed the birds. And then I read the sign that said we were most definitely NOT supposed to feed the birds, so I stashed the stale bread I had brought from home and blamed the children for stealing it from my pantry and going all rogue on us.
My friend stepped away from her stroller, complete with heavy hanging bags on the back and her two-year-old sitting in it. And this happened.
Yep. The whole thing fell over. You know you packed too heavy when your boy doesn’t counterbalance whatever it is that you have hanging off of the handles.
After dumping that one, we decided to let the smaller ones roam free for a while. And as per the internal homing device that comes implanted in most children, they found a fence.
Which reminded me a lot of a picture of their older brothers, taken about three years ago on the first day that they met.
Wow. How history repeats. My boy and her boy, part deux. Oh my heart.
We contained the younger ones again, after this, and off we wandered until we came to a new exhibit being constructed. At about the midpoint of this gigantic new spot was a tall tower where at the top, you could see from horizon to horizon the new home for the elephants, among many other animals. And our older boys proudly yelled down from the top that they were learning about the “good news” and “it was coming” and “we should get ready.”
I kind of felt like I was at a church revival.
Amen to that. And I kind of like the fact that the monkeys are behind bars.
It took forever, but finally we talked them into coming back down and we followed the path once again, this time finding some zebras.
Ewan kept insisting that they were cows. “See?” he would yell, and then, “COW!” He was so convincing that I nearly agreed with him after a few minutes.
And what trip to the zoo would be complete without the elephants? This is Molly and Didi. Or is it Mimi and Dolly. Or Lolly and Midi. No. It’s Mimi and Dolly. Truly. I just looked it up.
They look like really old men to me.
And this was the boys’ favorite picture of the day. Go figure.
They then proceeded to tell us moms that we were as big as the pile of elephant poop, of which I most definitely did not take a picture.
It all comes down to a good butt and poop dialogue.
Ugh.
