We took Nathan to the Zoo because surprisingly enough, he grows weary of our small house even though hello, my child who does not pay for the mortgage, we have seventeen HBO channels! HBO Latino is almost like Dora! And FYI: fancy cable doesn’t pay for itself, kid. You watch Taxicab Confessions and LIKE IT.
The moment Mike saw the glass-encased carousel at the zoo, his eyes lit up and he said, “Oh we have to do that.” I’m sure he saw it as an opportunity to have a genuine family experience. What I saw was a potential battle with my 21-month-old, a child who wanted to roam free in the grassy field outside the glass house, not sit on some mechanical pony while tinkly music piped in overhead.
It is very difficult to clutch a wriggling child while trying to give my husband the evil eye whenever the circular hell trap afforded me the view to say, “YOU DID THIS TO ME!” Equally frustrating was watching my husband turn a very expensive camera, lens and flash setup into a simple point and shoot because he doesn’t know how to zoom in! It is also very difficult to smile while hoping that my husband this time FINDS THE SHUTTER BUTTON! THERE IS ONLY ONE!
I guess it wasn’t so bad, even if I had to wave Nathan’s hand for him and bellow into his ear, “SMILE AT DADDY! THAT MAN THERE IS YOUR FATHER AND YOU SMILE AT HIM RIGHT NOW!”
I don’t mean to be such a Debbie Downer, but gold stars and sunshine lose their magic when your post-birth vagina has the spacious square footage of an airplane hangar. I’m just saying.