The zoo has become my and G’s little summer hobby, almost as much fun as painting molding and doors. She loves the playgrounds and exhibits-nee-playgrounds, the water parks cool her off when the heat rises, we spend awesome time alone, and Beckie spends awesome time alone. I come home utterly blown from ~3 hrs of chasing, lifting, pushing, entertaining, obeying and coddling G.

She knows most of the displays, and outlines our itinerary by name.   Her names, at least, though she is very insistent to all who will listen that they are wallabies and not kangaroo.   Today she wanted to go to the bug park.

ME: The bug park?
G: the bug park.
ME: Is that the Farm Park? the Wallaby Park?

I asked for directions, she did not know. Half an hour later at the petting zoo she spotted lady bug and and earth worm statues

G: “see daddy! the bug park!”

Water shoes, sandy paths and running do not always mix. She has slid out 4 times in our last 2 trips. Brief periods of sulking are followed by more rambunction, triage in the water parks, and strange looks from parents thinking I beat my kid on the legs.

a pensive visit to the flamingos right after face-planting

rejuvenation

remarkable resemblance

every visit must end with the Merry-Go-Round

different toys are brought each week

friends visited each week

Never to ride the same animal twice, though they are all named Kiesha