You (Don’t) Belong in the Zoo

No Internet and no…Internet make Aimee something something. Ugh. Something weird is going on with my phoneline, I think the voicemail has buggered up. At any rate, my new as-yet-unnamed laptop won’t let me connect, but for some reason my ancient laptop, Henry, will. May I just say yet ANOTHER hurrah for not having cleaned this one up and sold it yet? (After the great big kerfuffle with Dell over the new one, which saw them replacing the hard drive, RAM and motherboard. I told them it was faulty!) Hence my absence. I hope that never happens again!

Yesterday Stuart and I went to the Melbourne Zoo, less to celebrate Australia Day than because we actually had the same day off for once (we are truly work-crossed lovers). The Zoo was great, except for all the other people. Whilst waiting in the huuuge queue to get in, we overheard the volunteer near us tell someone that Australia Day is one of their busiest days. We tried to ignore that omen, and actually it wasn’t all that bad. I haven’t been to the Zoo in years and years, so it was nice to go back again and see all the changes made since, oh, 1991. The new elephant enclosure looks great, as do many of the other habitats. The only one that still worries me is the orang utan enclosure, for its lack of trees. There’s a beautiful little baby orang utan at the moment; it elicited much cooing from the audience.

My maternal instincts, as weird as ever, went into overdrive over a ten-metre python, and also some lizards and the ocelot, but not about any of the human children we saw throughout the day. In fact, they were outright revolting. I lost count of the times I wanted to say “stop it! Don’t touch that!” throughout the day, and the number of times I felt horror when the parents of the children in question didn’t. Wandering through the reptile enclosure, I had to bite my tongue as children banged their fists on the glass just above the sign that said “please do not tap on the glass”, and then bite it again as their parents walked up to join them and rather than telling them off, banged their fists on the glass too. I wanted to say something but I settled for disapproving glares instead, because I’m lame. I also spent some time fantasising that I was Harry Potter and choosing which enclosures I’d make the glass disappear from (needless to say there were going to be some brats really regretting that they’d pushed their faces up against the glass of a case containing a venomous snake).

I was really astounded by the way some parents let their kids act. Yeah, I know parenting is hard and kids can be a handful, but perhaps if you can’t control them in public and make them behave, you shouldn’t inflict them on other people. Also, it’s probably a good idea to teach them not to tease carniverous wild animals, regardless of whether those animals are in cages (“see how that big lion looks all thoughtful, sweetie? He’s plotting his revenge.”). Just a thought.

I was somwhat aghast by the number of really, really young girls I saw who were dressed inappropriately for a) their particular outing and b) their age group. This is something I rant about a lot, so expect to see more of this topic in the future. I don’t understand how parents of really young girls see 22-year-old Traci strutting about putting herself at risk of skin cancer in some really unfortunate places, and think “oh, how sweet, we should dress our five-year-old Tayylaah like that!”. I pointed out a little girl (possibly called Tayylaah, I don’t know) to Stuart with some horror. She was quite a portly little thing, and dressed in a super-tight midriff top and equally tight hipster jeans which, when she turned away from us as we walked in her direction on the way to one of the exhibits, I noticed had the same thing in common with many hipsters worn by older and more hip-endowed girls: they showed off a healthy slice of bum-crack in all its glory. Ugh. She couldn’t have been more than six, and that’s a lenient estimate. She was probably closer to four. I don’t know who wants to see a four-year-old’s butt-crack, and I don’t want to, but I also can’t help feeling that whoever they are, the parents of four-year-olds might do better than to oblige them.

Anyway. Wandering through the Zoo was interspersed with large bouts of lying down in the grass and not doing anything. It was lovely. Then we came home and slept for about three hours. We are getting old, sad and lame, in that order. The second I notice the words “kids these days…” coming out of my mouth is the second I do something really drastic and most likely not very pleasant.

2 Responses to “You (Don’t) Belong in the Zoo”

  1. Missjenjen Says:

    Riiiiiight there with you on the kids things, all of ’em. I have a lot of trouble with kids in public. Also with you on the names thing and recommend this: for a seriously good and extremely funny read.

  2. JiggaDigga Says:

    Great reading, keep up the great posts.
    Peace, JiggaDigga