Thursday, June 4, 2015

June 4 – “Day Eighteen: The Bird Knows”

First job of our stint as … well … grandparents was to make a donut run with Caleb.  He was actually the first one up, which in itself is an accomplishment for him.  He got dressed for the trek, but he insisted that he bring along what I thought was a change of clothes.  He helped navigate to Shipleys and carry the array of donut holes and blue ninjas and pink sprinkles and plain glazed back to the car.  But when we got back to the house, he requested that I block the door so he could change in the car.  Ah, of course.  The change of clothes.  But much to my surprise, it wasn’t a change of clothes at all.  It was his pajamas.  Interesting.  I guess he felt cheated out of some valuable pajama time.

Christi had had another bad headache/nausea attack in the middle of the night.  So we took the boys to the zoo so she could rest.  Josh had a couple of meetings, so that freed him up to do his pastor thing as well.  And the zoo excursion was certainly a noteworthy one, if you just pay attention along the way.  Oh, we’ve been to the zoo before.  We’ve even been to this zoo before.  But you never know what awaits when you go with three youngsters.

The first encounter was with the bald eagle.  He sat regally on a tree limb guarding the entrance to his aerie (Great word, isn’t it?  Means sanctuary, stronghold, hideaway, refuge.  Basically … nest.  I learned it from doing crossword puzzles), and totally ignoring the interlopers outside the cage.  That is until Caleb let out a shriek.  The eagle immediately turned his head in Caleb’s direction.  And Caleb managed to hold quite the conversation in eagle tongue.  What was said remains a mystery, but the bird knows.

The Galapagos tortoise walked right toward us.  Luke thought that approach was just for him, and he squealed a welcome in tortoise-ese.  I’m pretty sure the creature understood.  (You know, of course, that before children learn to talk they know all the secrets of the universe.  They have to give that up, because learning to talk means connecting with the parental units in the only thing worth giving up the knowledge of the stars for … love.  Sound sappy?  Sound unbiblical?  Of course it is.  I saw it in that movie where babies can talk).

We swam with the otters.  Sort of.  The zoo has a plexiglass slide that travels through the water like a tunnel in the otter enclosure.  As you slide down the otters play with you.  They enjoy the swim and you don’t have to get wet.  Great exhibit.  Lots of fun.  (Oh, Zak and Caleb and Luke liked it, too … I think).

As Luke and I stood mesmerized by the majestic giraffe feeding from the high tree in his enclosure, a clamor was heard from the pen next door.  Tow rhinos were squaring off in a confrontation.  We could only assume it was two males doing battle over the right to lie down next to the female.  Two of them were standing face to face (or rather horn to horn), scraping the dirt like a toro in a bullring.  One had a huge front horn.  The other was apparently the younger.  The crowd was silently cheering them on, hoping for a battle royale in the rhino pit.  Alas, we were all disappointed.  The one with the shorter horn suddenly plopped to the ground in a heap and gave up the battle as if it were just not worth the effort.  The silence of the crowd became an audible groan of disappointment as they all wandered off in search of the next bit excitement

For us that came at the reptile room.  One of the boa constrictors had noticed Luke and was actually jumping up at him (against the glass, of course).  Luke thought it was hilarious.  Zak noticed what was going on, and entered “Oldest brother to the rescue” mode.  He sat down next to Luke and began a process of mesmerizing the snake by waving his hand, then swaying his hips in a somewhat awkward rendition of a hula dance.  The snake followed it back and forth and up and up, until it either reached the height of it ability to rise, or saw Luke and lunged again.  (I think maybe the little guy looked like lunch).

Over in the bird house, we were stalked by a grounded seagull the first time through.  He walked just ahead of us all the way, and almost made his way through the door before the folks in front of us noticed they were being followed and slammed it shut.  That forced him to turn back toward us.  I’m not sure who was more frightened – the bird or the boys.  He made his way past us to the relative safety of his bird house, and we made our way out of there.  Our second time through there was a duck.  Well, maybe it was some kind of exotic duck, but a duck is a duck, nonetheless.  It was precariously perched on the railing, and as I pulled all three boys in the wagon past his domain, the duck, as ducks are prone to do, let out a quack.  The noise itself, as well as the close proximity of its source, proved somewhat … startling to the boys.  Zak and Caleb made their way out of that wagon faster than an ostrich in full run.  Luke knew something was up, but he couldn’t quite figure out his brothers’ rapid exodus.  We managed to escape the quacking menace and make our way out of the bird house, Zak and Caleb breathing a collective sigh of relief.

Of course we had to stop at the zoo’s play area for a few minutes, and then the boys crawled into one of those photo booths for pictures.  Luke was pretty much done with the whole experience, and was barely keeping his eyes open.  We swung by Chick-fil-a for lunch, and the afternoon was filled with a movie about Paddington Bear.  Fit the zoo theme quite nicely.

Last night we made our way over to the neighborhood “Splash Park.”  It’s one of those places where water randomly squirts from structures or even from the ground.  It was a bit crowded, and Luke was very tentative to get into it, but Zak and Caleb joined right in with the wildness and ran from jet to jet like a bunch of monkees.  (Just can’t get away from that whole zoo thing, can we?).

Genesis 7:8-9 says, Pairs of clean and unclean animals, of birds and of all creatures that move along the ground, male and female, came to Noah and entered the ark, as God had commanded Noah.”


Father, thank you for Christi’s progress.  Be her healer.  Be her pain reliever.  Amen.

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