Zoo Daze


Summer is winding down, and I’m one of those crazy fools who starts mourning the loss of summer before it’s even passed. I can’t help it – my brain just trajects a million miles an hour, a racecar on the final lap. And yes, I do walk around with internal whiplash pretty much daily, you are very correct. So here’s my remedy for the unwarranted end-of-summer-blues:


The zoo. Our hometown happens to have the best zoo in the world (can’t prove that), so we purchase a membership every year so we can just pop in and pop out with zero pressure. Tantrums upon arrival? No problem, we’ll come another day. Rainy afternoon? Sleeping lions? Penguin bit Ken’s finger? (Can prove that) No big. See ya tomorrow, zoo!


I take Bee all.of.the.time. That sea lion in there knows our name, birth dates and social security numbers. If we come up missing, he did it. She? It? Different discussion.


But on this particular day, there were no tantrums or finger injuries – just pure, sunshine-filled zoo perfection.


Sidenote: I try not to think too hard about the animals at the zoo, because it for always makes me cry. I mean, it’s terrible, the cages and the glass walls and I take deep breaths every time I go. There are these two particular orangutans that I just refuse to visit, because every time I wander over there, Orangutan 1 and Orangutan 2 are staring, completely blank into space, like they’re mental patients and have gone completely catatonic. I don’t know, maybe they have. Sometimes they have blankets over their heads and I like to think they’re playing Peek-a-Boo, but there’s never the Peek. Just the Boo (Hoo).


So I generally make up stories about them to make us all feel better (always an expert at ignoring facts, this girl), like about how the sea lions swam allllll the way over here from California through a secret tunnel where only sea lions can fit (it’s called The Tube, and you have to say it with a London accent, all pronounced and grandmotherly: The Tyoobe) in search of cotton candy. And bam! They found it – would you believe it? – in OUR zoo!?! They’re thrilled.


And we’re thrilled that they’re thrilled.

zoo erin loechner

Semi-related: the height this man gets when flouncing is unmatched.


Summer, don’t leave. (But since you must, thanks for leaving pumpkin lattes on your way out the door…)

  • Flouncing? That’s called FLOUNCING? We’re planning a trip to the BEST zoo in the world (ours of course) soon – haven’t gone yet because it’s an hour away on a good day and usually really crowded, but little man loves animals so we’ll go. I actually love the zoo/hate the zoo, but prefer to think my zookeepers are doing everything in their power to make the animals comfortable and happy. Maybe I’m full of delusions but it keeps me sane.

  • Brings back good memories! The zoo may be even more fun in the fall, when the animals are cooler and livelier! P.S. That’s a pretty good flounce for someone who just turned a year older (and better, if that is possible!)

  • Um, best zoo in the world? Are you sure you don’t live in Seattle, because we have the best zoo in the world! Can completely relate to going to the zoo all the time when my guy was B’s age. Had a membership for 4 years,it was a life saver all. year. round. Now that he his older the zoo doesn’t appeal to him as much, but we still enjoy it on occasiion Enjoy this time with your little one and enjoy the rest of your summer!

  • We are big zoo lovers over here too (any place with penguins is fine by me!). I get what you mean though — if I start thinking about it all too long, I want to cry and figure out a way to set them all free!

Comments are closed.