Tuesday, September 30, 2014

monday funday at the zoo

Last Sunday I was left with the serious conundrum of...do I or don't I take the kids to the "kid-friendly, acres upon acres to chase posterity, and lot's of animals to ask endless questions about" zoo OR (among lots of other bulleted points, of course) "stay home all day on a Monday."

Oooo. Tough choice. 

Look lively, kids. We're going to the motherloving zoo.


Great. Great. Everything was great and the kids were so excited to see giant orangutan and he was equally excited to get felt up by handsy young'ens.

Rhett later whispered that he knew it wasn't a real orangutan because it didn't have nipples.   (Hmmmm? I blame current tip toeing around age appropriate anatomy discussions.)


The queen on her throne.



And of course pictures of some of the animals. Bless their hearts for letting us stare at them. The momma orangutan had a BABY and it is one of my life's greatest wishes to hold a baby orangutan. I mean for the love of cute, a monkey in a diaper slays my heart. Plus both boys look like baby orangutans when they're born so there's the whole nostalgia aspect that makes my heart's desire less weird. 

And if the animal's weren't fun enough, the zoo has a great splash pad that amazingly wasn't thronged by wagonloads of kids.  


The older boys were happy playing for many minutes and then Rad grew bored with that scene and started looking for an escape route. 




Of course he did. 

He did the not cute smile and sprinted away and just as I was about to catch him he would get a second wind speedy-gonazales himself to just out of my reach. Fine. Karma's a comin' kiddo. 



Exhibit one for karma: Falling in front of a cute girl while your momma takes pictures...hard Monday Rad, hard Monday. #boomgoesthekarma


And to prison with him.



The pale one is mine. Our DNA doesn't get that tan.


And the one trying to lick our friend is also mine. Apparently our DNA also promotes puppy like tendencies. I might never be a grandma....


And lastly to end the day, a camel ride.




Stare. Down. 



And the camel name was Crockett. He was a sharp shootin', rootin tootin, camel. Many thanks Crockett.


And thankfully all the animals wore out our little animals. Cute.


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1 comment:

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