It's Zoo Time!

So Ares and I took our little one to the Houston Zoo on Saturday afternoon. I was amazed to see just how many other people had nothing better to do than to spend their entire afternoon fighting over non-existent parking amidst a herd of fragrantly challenged individuals, giant rhino pop dung, and the shit-flinging monkeys.

We purchased a membership, I really don't know why since the last time we were there was about a year ago. I think Ares just wanted to buy something for the little one. It's a Daddy thing, I guess. I inquired at the membership booth about having the little one's first birthday there, and was directed to another booth that had been specifically set up -balloons and everything- to give out information about birthday parties at the zoo. I approached the middle aged lady, who looked bored to tears sitting by herself at the booth and asked her about birthdays at the zoo. She took one look at me, smiled, handed me a brochure- never mind that it was the SAME one that I was holding in my hand right in front of her face!!- flipped it over, and told me to go online and read about it all. Ok... I want her job!!! It must be incredible to get paid to do nothing- literally! Must be difficult for her manager, though, to delegate NOTHING to her subordinates. She reminded me of our mail carrier...

So, there we were watching the littlest jaguars frolic endlesly with each other amidst old, wet cardboard boxes and moss spread around their pen, when we heard the sounds of the Life Flight helicopter coming into the hospital a block away. We didn’t think much of it, anyone who's ever driven the Houston freeways knows that a person turned to mush and having to be taken by helicopter to the hospital is as common as Jehova's witnesses knocking at your door on a Saturday morning at 7am. All of a sudden, the lady standing behind me, and who had turned her 2-year-old’s happy-go-lucky zoo visit into an episode of National Geographic, complete with semi-scientific facts blurted out every 5 seconds, turns to her child and says:

Mother (in her most annoying yet teacher-like voice): “Can you hear that?”
Child (inquisitively): “Ahm? Yes”
Mother: “Can you tell me what that is?”
Child: A helticoter!
Mother: “Yes, very good… but can you say Life Flight?”
Child (boring look on his face): “Hmmm?“
Mother: “That helicopter is someone who is really hurt -probably about to die- being taken to the hospital.”
Child (worried look on his face): “Huh?”
Father: “Sometimes people get hurt so bad that an ambulance doesn't have the time to bring them to the hospital, so Life Flight gets them.”
Child (almost to tears): “Huh?”
Mother: “Say Life Flight”
Father: “L-i-f-e…. F-l-i-g-h-t”
Child cries hysterically!

So this is how you kill what could have otherwise been a fantastic, care-free and fun day at the zoo for a 2-year-old, while simultaneously, turning him into a hypochondriac who is sure to call Life Flight the next time he gets a mosquito bite. Way to go, Mom & Dad!

Oh, and while I’m on the whole Houston Zoo subject. When we came home that afternoon, absolutely disgusted by the smell of rhino shit and sweat we brought home as a souvenir -hey, it was cheaper than anything at the Zoo store!- I came across the funniest thing. On the ‘Map & General Information’ brochure that is handed out at the Zoo entrance, right there in the ‘Please Mind Your Zoo Manners’ section, the brochure says:

“We let the animals run around naked, but it scares them (and us) if you’re not wearing shoes and appropriate clothing. Please keep yourself covered.

WHAT?! No, naked time at the Zoo?! I want to revoke my membership!