We went to the Zoo. The internet convinced me it was pumpkin spice and everything nice szn. Low and behold, the internet was wrong. It was salty, sweaty, and smelled like mom’s spaghetti.
But really, we had a wonderful time. The boys climbed and played on almost every animal statue. Lincoln filled his little hands and pockets with acorns and rocks that he desperately wanted to feed the animals or throw into their watering holes. Logan lit up when he saw the gorilla walk on his knuckles and munched a bunch of broccoli. Both were fascinated by the enormous elephant using its long trunk to spray cool water on its hard, wrinkly gray skin. I was entranced with how refreshing it appeared (gah, that tells you how hot it felt…I wished I was that elephant spraying the cool, dirty water on my back).
Then there was that hour Lincoln and I made four (4!) trips to the toilet to persuade him to use it (he is “potty-training,” which means he only uses his little white plastic potty in the living room & refuses to pee in a diaper, but how it worked out is a story of its own). Please note that four trips to the small dark sauna of a restroom were enough for the average zoo-goer to call it quits.
But the reason we didn’t call it quits is that we went there for the kids, not for us. As a parent or caretaker, we have to put our grown-up wishes to the side. Sure, Chad and I both wanted to bow out early (we have a membership, so it’s super easy to get up and go), but we didn’t.
Instead, we had to change our mentality. We had to change “Ugh, it’s scorching and seemingly unbearable” to “I’m grateful to have these (hilarious) memories added to our book forever.” Our children are only children once, and I believe it’s our job to make the most of even the hottest and smelliest situations.