Be Ye Warned, Animal Butts Ahoy

There are two things I love doing at the zoo. First, looking at empty exhibits and pointing at stuff. A crowd will gather to see what you’re looking at, but there’s nothing there. Second, counting animal butts.  

One!

The zoo is a wonderful experience. Kids learn about animals, conservation, all the good stuff. I am not convinced animals are particularly fond of the situation though. My evidence is based solely on their ability to moon us. 

  

Two!

The feeding buckets or hay piles have two sides. Yet animals prefer to eat with their rear ends facing the human onlookers 

  

Three!

It could be they just don’t like looking at  humans when eating. I can’t say I would want to look at a hippo when eating dinner. Case in point… 

Four!   

The habit was transferred rather quickly too. 
  

Not cool, man. Not cool. 

Even plants. 

I can’t be certain of course, but after two hours I was sure the plants were in on it.
It was a really nice zoo visit, no buts about that.   –far too proud of that one–

The day started with telling the four year old  we were zoo bound. He didn’t say “yeah!” Or “today?!?!” He said, “are Granny and Grandpa going to be there?”

The original plan was no. They are busy folk and we had told them about our visit. The four year old followed his statement with, “they should be there.”

A 7:45am phone call and my parents saved the day by agreeing to join us for zoo based adventures. 

The toddler opted against helping for most of the day. 

You would think it takes work to not take photos of my kids’ faces. Nope. Natural state for them. 

  

We were confused by the “wild cat” exhibit.  

Of course the animals that did not shake their behinds at us just wanted to eat the toddler. 

He did not comply. 

The day of animal butts may have been thematically off putting, but it really ended up nice. –seriously, I am having so much pun fun tonight– The impromptu attendance of my parents made my kids’ day and really made the zoo trip a good ol’ time. I do not want to tell my four year old that he successfully guilt tripped his grandparents into the day’s activity though.  That would open a whole can of worms that oils never close. He’d go mad with power. Well, madder with power. 

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