So it was the first very warm spring day today. Temperatures above 70 for the first time since last September probably. So I took Lil Hawks and Hawks, Jr to the zoo. It was filled with stay-at-home soccer moms... and me. But it was fun in that all of the children there were my kids age. Old enough to run around and have fun, but young enough that they weren't in school.
Apparently 2 in the afternoon is THE time to be watching the polar bears for they were fed.
I first could tell that something was amiss when I kept smelling an odor that I was familiar with but just couldn't place. Then as we moved our way from the Rhino (from our angle it looked as if he were trying to hide behind a very skinny tree) to the Lions (asleep, as usual) inching closer to the Bear section, the smell grew stronger and stronger. Then just as we walked down the little path to the back of the polar bear area where they have a swimtank you can see under I recognized the smell. Spoiling meat.
On the bank to the little swim area there appeared to be a side of beef. In fact there were three, one for each of the polar bears, and they each had theirs in different parts of the habitat knawing away like a lab on a rawhide bone.
Of course Lil Hawks was oblivious but Hawks, Jr. thought that was just the coolest thing he had ever seen. That way beat out the Stellar's Sea Eagle or the backhairs on the elephant. It was even cooler than the pink flamingos (which weren't pink) or the snow leopard and his spots - not stripes, Dad, tigers have stripes.
It was so cool that when we stopped for hamburgers on the way home Jr. couldn't stop talking about it. "And the bear would rip it like this and it smelled SO bad. I mean it was terrible, Dad (as if I hadn't been there) it was so bad like the trash when Lil Hawks goes poop (as if I wasn't eating) or the..."
"My poop don't stink!"
"It smells like polar bear food."
"Does not!"
"Poop stink." "Bear fart."
GUYS!
Somehow this memory is supposed to be endearing to me when I'm an empty nester.
