life in a fishbowl

we took the boys to the wildlife park this past weekend.

we fed llamas and giraffes, touched the tops of stingrays, and had crotchety old ladies gawk at our parenting skills when we tried hanging elliot over the zoo's ledge to touch the spider monkeys. owen made sure to point out all of the animal's "we-don't-touch-private parts" (we've been learning a few new social graces at home) and elliot wanted desperately to steal a spotted doe from the petting zoo.

the wildlife park is kind of like our disneyland experience for the boys. -- simply because they don't know any better. and more than likely will continue to be none the wiser for a while.

let's face it, disneyland is for the wealthy (at least the wealthier than us). and while my happiest place on earth would never consist of hoards of camera toting tourists, 2 hour long lines, and grown men sporting giant over-stuffed mouse heads, i still have this burning desire to take my children there. to let them experience the magic that is walt disney. it's the american thing to do.

maybe one day we'll be well-off enough to join the masses.


(i recently heard someone say, "if you have your health, consider yourself wealthy", and instead of nodding my head in agreement, i found myself making a mental list of every chronic illness i'd be willing to live with if it meant having a little extra cash around...the list is long, people. the list is real long.)