In
the interest of the time of the meager few who choose to read these posts, I
decided to divide our Race Day adventures.
That places me a day or two behind, I know, but living in the past every
now and then can be beneficial, can’t it?
We
took advantage of a free day at the zoo after the big 5K race that Josh and Zak ran in. They needed to walk around a while to cool
down, and Caleb and Luke were up for the challenge, so into the animal wilds we
went.
As
we rounded the bend near the bald eagle and just past the otter house, Luke
decided it was time for the Mighty Miniature 5K to begin. And since no one else wanted to be in the
thick of another competition so soon after the big boys ran, old DadDad decided
to join him.
He
took off down the path, arms pumping, just as he had seen Daddy’s and Big
Brother Zak’s going at the race. His
body seemed to magically transform into that of an accomplished Olympic
long-distance runner. I wasn’t sure how
far we would go, or how long I could even keep up with him, but I was determined
to try. He motored along until suddenly
he took a rather drastic veer to our left.
Never slowed down, but he obviously knew the race track better than I
did. I glanced up about then and noticed
where he was headed – right to the playground.
Uh-huh. Of course. Any respectable Mini-5K would run through a
playground.
He
made his way off the path (“Perhaps this is
a cross-country race instead,” I fretted) and right to what I assumed would
be a dead end. But no. It was just the steps to the slide. Luke took the first step, then paused, pumping
his arms twice. Then the second step,
another pause, another set of arm pumps.
And so it continued all the way to the top of the steps, at which point
he turned to me, with his little three-year-old legs still jogging in
place. And when he was sure he had my
eye, both fists shot into the air in a gesture of victory. The race was over. We had a winner. And then, suddenly, the three-year-old
returned. See … now it was time to
slide.
And
since Luke was now lost in his post-race reverie, I went with the older two
guys on a Pokemon hunt. Fortunately for
me (since I don’t have the app on my
phone), the adventure took us through the middle of the otter habitat. Otters.
My all-time favorite animal. They
weren’t really active, but I did see one, however briefly. I’m gonna be good to go for the rest of this
trip. Well, unless Christi goes into
labor. Then everything changes.
We
did finally move on from the playground once we were all together again. We made a quick round of the world-famous Waco
Zoo while we were there (Remember, that’s
where the big guys’ 5K run originated).
There was a lot of activity in the reptile house for some reason. They were slithering around all over their
enclosures. I admit it. I looked around to see if anybody had that
Harry Potter look about them. I did stay
a few extra steps away from the glass, too.
My
favorite quote of the day came after we had lunch at a Mexican food
establishment right on the river. I made
my way down a flight of stairs that lead to a pier. I was following Zak and Caleb, of
course. They were testing the waters, so
to speak. Caleb would put his toe out
onto a piece of river driftwood, then pull it back quickly, almost as if his
toe had internally heard the stern warning voice of his Dad. And Zak dutifully encouraged him to “Go just
a little further.” As I arrived I heard
Zak say in his wisest of big brother voices, “The presence of danger is what
makes it an adventure. You could find a
unicorn, or you could fall off and die.”
Wow. Dumbledore-worthy, don’t you
think?
Ephesians
2:6-7 says, “And God raised us up with
Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order
that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace,
expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.”
Father,
thank you for zoo adventures and mini- 5K’s and family. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment