Friday, September 29, 2017

Me, You and the Zoo

Last Friday, our family made our first adventure to the Pittsburgh Zoo. One of the benefits of living in Johnstown is the range of day-trips a family can take. Our girls welcomed the jungle, especially our oldest ape. Wise like an owl and wild like a stallion, here is how she attacked the zoo in all its autumn glory.

  • First day of autumn. Temperature will rise to 87 degrees. Her chameleon cheeks coincide with the rising temperature. By the peak of the heat, her face is fire truck red and her blonde hair is a swarm of sweat. 
  • One of her first animal encounters is a face-to-face with a komodo dragon, a prehistoric looking lizard. Beast and child are both poised, separated by glass. Both use their tongues to intimidate. Dad tells child not to put tongue on glass as that is a yucky form of intimidation. 
  • Upon the sight of a giraffe, everyone awes over the long-neck creature as he eats lunch. Everyone except her. She is looking directly down at fish in the stream as if giraffes eating grub is a common occurrence in Brownstown. "Look at these fish!", she exclaims. 
  • We eat lunch at a cafe where giraffes and zebras are still in our line of vision. She eats a hot dog and animal crackers, a classic zoo meal. 
  • Our zoo brigade heads to "The Island", the newest habitat in this ecosystem. An anteater patrols his paradise, presumably looking for ants. Father and daughter are shocked by the size of the anteater. Dad wants to take him home and suck up everything our family doesn't need. And of course, any ant home invaders. 
  • Exiting "The Island", she is bound to crash. Bursting sun and emotions = drowsy. Gram offers ice cream. She is awake. She wants sprinkles. 
  • She gets her sprinkled ice cream. Gram gets ice cream too. Gram does not get sprinkles. Our daughter is distraught over Gram not getting sprinkles. She questions the decision and states, "That makes me sad."
  • The aquarium offers refuge from the heat. Swimming penguins delight her. She eventually has a conversation with a fish. "Sorry, I can't come swim with you. I don't have my swimsuit."
  • Post-aquatic life, Dad and daughter climb a cargo net, a mildy dangerous exercise. We successfully complete the climb. Slides are the transportation back to our pride. They do not have a lot of zip to them. Zoo folks watch a 33-year-old man awkwardly descend. 
  • In the playground, she wants to play "kitchen". She chooses a play area directly in the midday sun. While everyone rests and Mom feeds our smallest cub, Dad is at his daughter's uncomfortable restaurant. 
  • After my imaginary meal, Dad and daughter do a monkey-inspired rope ascent. Once again, this leads to a slide, granting passage back to the mainland. After multiple up and downs, daughter complains of a burning butt. No one forced you to do this. 
  • A cool mist is shooting out of a wall. The zookeepers must have seen our daughter's cheeks on the surveillance cameras. She runs through the mist as if it is the greatest thing that has ever happened in human history. Minutes later, she collides with a boy of her age. They both topple to the ground. It is now the worst thing that has ever happened in human history.
  • I watch sea lions gracefully swim as my daughter tries to get it together. Her mother conducts a series of concussion tests. She is able to return to the zoo. 
  • On the way out, we view a lynx. She is perplexed by this cat. Without a nap, threatening heat exhaustion, and surviving the "massacre at the mist", everything has become befuddling. 
  • She sleeps in the car. Joy to the world. 
  • When asked what her favorite animal was at the zoo, she declares, "the squids".
  • There were no squids at the zoo.
  • I love that girl.  


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