The kids asked if they could go to the zoo and I said we could. I mean, we can. We can always go to the zoo, unless it’s raining. We can especially go to the zoo if there is still playdoh under the dining table after a vigilant playdoh eradication. The zoo is a destination for those who are losing the playdoh war.
I say playdoh war like it’s something I’m actually fighting. I have been sitting here for five minutes drinking coffee and eating a chocolate chip cookie. Let’s not kid ourselves, I’m not fighting…I’m eating…with my back against the playdoh.
The wonderful thing about staying home with children is you don’t actually have to stay home with them. So, we left.
At the zoo, we watched the tiger get trained. YES! It was thrilling! I’d show you a photo but I accidentally sat on my camera in the car and forgot it in my chair.
The animals were very active and smelly today, as were the children. Sheldon was all for running around until he tripped and scraped his forehead on the asphalt. Then he wanted me to carry him, which wasn’t happening since I was also pushing a stroller that was pushing a baby.
Sheldon’s favorite thing about the zoo is the petting zoo, which is populated entirely of goats. We go to the zoo to pet the goats, because “dey yet us pet da doats at da zoo”.
Q’s favorite part of the zoo was getting his allowance. He has been feeding the cat and picking his toys up each day (mostly) and has earned a dollar a week. I never have cash on me, unless I’m going to the zoo. The zoo makes you pay for parking. Since I had cash, I paid Q. He had five dollars burning a hole in his pocket.
Actually it wasn’t in his pocket. He spent most of his zoo time flailing his five dollars around and asking to buy candy. Needless to say, we had to stop at the gift shop on the way out.
The gift shop is very expensive. He didn’t have enough money for binoculars. He had barely enough money for a shark head on the end of a stick that opens and closes it’s mouth. He bought it.
I suspect the rest of his month will be full of Budget-y angst while he waits for his next payday.
He named his shark “Razortooth” and suggested we mosey over to the manta ray exhibit. He wanted Razortooth to stick his shark head in the manta ray pool and eat a manta ray.
On the way home, he wondered if sharks eat bacon.
I said they did…if they could come by it.
Then he asked me where bacon comes from and I told him, “Pigs”
“But how do pigs make bacon, Mom, how do they make it?”
Feeling wicked I said, “They die.”
He was shocked. Then I reminded him how much he likes bacon AND sausage, and that every time he eats it, he’s eating dead pigs…which is why we don’t waste our food.
He stuck his tongue out at me and I mentally checked of the “Biology” segment of our educational day. I could probably check of “Nutrition” as well. Eat your heart out Public Education System.
When I reminded him he was without funds for the rest of the month he announced he would feed the cat SIX times in a day so he could get SIX dollars.
So if anyone has a cat they need fed, give me a call. I have a willing four year old.
|(I call this one, ‘Portrait of a Foot’)|