While I was chatting with Colin Firth at the Oscars, my husband took Vivian and William to one of our favourite family activities, the kind where you can waste half a day with children and still emerge more coherent than Muammar Gaddafi.
They went to the zoo.
We love the Calgary Zoo. When the animals aren’t dying in captivity, it can be quite educational. We especially love the gorillas.
But to get to the gorilla enclosure, you have to go by the vultures.
Only minutes after the zoo opens, my husband and kids are hoofing it toward the African exhibit. They walk around the corner and spy a turkey vulture. William does what six year olds do when they see predator birds: he raises his arms, like he’s the Y in the YMCA song. Mr. Turkey Vulture, sitting on his roost, counters by spreading his wings and claiming his territory. My brood resumes their hike, but become frozen when they see the Mr. Vulture’s breakfast crumbs, the remains of a rabbit.
Yesterday, when I went to William’s parent-teacher interview, his teacher said, “William’s pretty preoccupied with vultures.”
I explained their trip to the zoo. And I added, “It’s mostly because he saw the head, tail and legs of a rabbit. It was covered with blood. And the entrails were gone.” I’m pretty sure I resembled Lily Munster in this interchange with William’s teacher.
After the vulture-rabbit scene, my crew arrived for more Discovery Channel action courtesy of the western lowland gorillas.
My husband sat down to watch Kakinga, the silverback, who was relaxing with his feet on the glass. Vivian and William, meanwhile, spotted Yewande, the two-year-old toddler, and Yewande spotted them. She ran toward them.
A game of Simon Says ensued. William banged on his chest; Yewande banged on her chest. Vivian joined in; Yewande copied. Vivian and William ran to another area of the glass; Yewande raced them and won, every time.
This continued for a while or so I’m told. Having heard this story as frequently as Green Eggs and Ham, I can now recite the zoo experience like I was there.
Later, still enthralled with the young gorilla, Vivian yelled, “Eeew, the baby’s picking her nose.” Vivian paused, readjusting her focus. “Now she’s eating it.”
I’m pretty sure my husband didn’t hear anything. He was dumbstruck with what he saw behind the glass. Kakinga, the silverback, was pleasuring himself.
Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.
*snorts* who needs PVR when you can relive that kind of magic over and over again 🙂
Good point. The giant viewing glass = R rated entertainment.
I’m assuming the Simon Says mimicry stopped after the chest beating, running, and racing… After that, the gorillas were acting of their own accord, without human modeling, right?
I am laughing, Chase. I’ve tried to type three different phrases here, and they all could be misconstrued, so I’ll stop.
We were visiting the zoo in Portland, Oregon a few years ago, and had just entered their collection of sea-life. Making our way up to the sea otter enclosure, we noticed a few families quickly hurrying their children away, promising treats and nervously glancing around. We saw why when we got up to the otter viewpoint; Mr. Otter was rather aroused, and had decided to not let the opportunity go to waste. Or, perhaps, he was practicing his skills at “shucking” shellfish, or was tanning and needed to apply sunscreen to some of those hard-to-reach areas. I’ve always wondered what those parents were telling their kids as they hurried away that day.
Sea otters? Wow. I love your euphemisms: “shucking shellfish” and “applying sunscreen” sound like they belong in the that’s-what-she-says style of humour from The Office.
Now I’m going to try to get the visual of sea otters out of my head.
Thanks for commenting.
LMAO! That would be fun to explain!
No doubt. I heard of the event via text message, as my plane was grounded on the tarmac for 2.5 hours.
This reminds me of the time, many many years ago when I went to the zoo and took a flash (film) photo in the bat cave exhibit. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t encouraged, but I was young and inconsiderate. Anyway, when the film was developed, it came back with the brightly lit scene of an upside-down bat, in flagrante delicto and turgid glory, providing himself some, um, oral pleasure. My mother was horrified and my brother fascinated. It’s a good thing teenage human males haven’t mastered this particular trick, or they might never leave the house.
As I reply to comments, I’m listening to Jill Barber’s song called “Oh My My”, which seems fitting after reading the bat story. That is too funny. I can just see your mother’s horror and your brother’s fascination. I’m still laughing.
It’s always the gorillas, up to no good!! Them and the lions. My kids witnessed lion lovemaking at the zoo – took me a moment to work out what the heck was going on and why other parents were scooping up their littles and heading for the hills. Thankfully, Matthew accepted my explanation:
That Daddy lion is cracking the Mummy lion’s back, which is why he’s stretched out over top of her, gyrating.
Meep!
That’s a creative explanation. I like the generic “wrestling.” I’m also reminded of the episode of Modern Family a couple of months ago where Claire and Phil’s children walk into their bedroom at the wrong time. Here’s a hilarious summary of it: http://celebrityepisode.com/new-video-modern-family-kids-walk-in-on-mom-dads-intimate-encounter
Okay, without wishing to threadjack, I just had to chime in here too. When my sister in law took their male bunny in for neutering, they couldn’t find his testicles and he was sent home intact to his (fortunately spayed) bunny playmate, Daisy. He is evermore known as Floppy No Nuts. When Daisy was chased down and mounted by Floppy, my appalled 5 year old niece cried, “What is he doing to my rabbit?” To which her 7 year old brother replied, rolling his eyes and deadly serious, “It’s obvious, silly, they’re playing tag!”
That story is legend in our family.
Obviously, Kakinga’s father didn’t have “the talk” with him about doing that in private…sad when gorilla parenting goes so horribly wrong…Thanks for my afternoon giggle, Leanne!
Wendy
You’re welcome, Wendy. I guess when you’re the silverback, you can do whatever you want wherever you want.
Oh, my, I need to take a trip to the Calgary Zoo to see this Yewande. She sounds exciting! And I love your secondhand story-telling. I feel like I was there, too.
Our gorillas just mourn their sad existence quietly. The most exciting (and inappropriate) thing we’ve seen at our zoo is our alpha elephant Tonka take a dump. It made my then-four-year-old boy squeal is absolute delight, until the stench hit us. Then, I’m pretty sure I saw tears.
Come to Calgary! You have a place to stay, if you do.
I can see elephant poop being a big hit. And then a big stench. Nothing like the animal world to show you all sorts of animal instincts.
Only your “brood.” I love the Lily Munster comment too. My friends and I were once at the zoo when the head lion decided he needed a little action. I remember as the scene unfolded that a couple women were grabbing children, shielding eyes, and scurrying off. I was a college students with friends. We never laughed so hard at a zoo in our lives.
It is humourous. And when more people grew up on farms, seeing nature in action, whether it was the birth of a calf or a cat in heat, would not have been so shocking. Our urban sensibilities sometimes seem a bit Victorian.
He go see the baby lambs every April. Last year we saw twins being born. That was a fun conversation on the ride home…
I love that you saw the lambs being born. That conversation sounds like a potential blog topic, and a very entertaining one.
Think of it this way: at least it was a Gorilla and not Gaddafi pleasuring himself.
(you see, there’s always a silver lining. or a silverback, as it were…)
I love your wit, Julie, cracking me up on a Friday afternoon. This, however, would crack me up even on a Monday morning. Now that’s funny.
Aren’t you glad you were flirting it up with Colin Firth?
This story is so much more delicious delivered second-hand. 😉
Absolutely, regarding both of your comments!
You don’t see that everyday?
I really do live with an ape.
What?
Like I said to Chase above, I’m going to refrain from commenting. Too much temptation! Thanks for commenting, Leighann! See you on Twitter.
You should see what goes on when the zoo is closed…
Too funny, Larry. I’m not sure I want to think about it though.
I just found your blog and have to thank you so much for the great laugh!!
Thanks for coming by, Paula. May the laughter long continue.