The End of Birthday Season
I told the boys on Friday what to expect.
"We're going to see real animals," I said. "Just like the real Batman and Robin came to your party, Richie."
"Will they talk?" Richie asked. "Will they teach us?"
He must have been anticipating quite a party.
If the animals could talk, they didn't get in a word edgewise on Saturday.
When the worker brought out an owl, Johnny suddenly transformed into a member of the White House Press Corp.
Are the owls fast? Then how do they catch mice since mice are fast?
Do they grab mice with their claws? Do they see better with their big eyes? What do they eat? Where do they live? I hear owls at night, and they're so loud...
I imagined his kindergarten teacher's euphamisms this year: "He's very inquisitive. He asks between 300 and 400 questions daily."
Johnny's friend Parker, 2, asked, "Do people eat owls?"
"No," the lady said. "It is illegal to even have an owl's feather without permission."
"Do dinosaurs eat owls?" he asked.
Richie was wondering the same thing. After the party he asked, "Why was there none?"
"None of what?" I asked.
"None dinosaurs," he said.
He was right. Even though it was a dinosaur theme party, there were no actual dinosaurs there. There was, however, a king snake and a oppossom, which the kids got to pet.
Interesting fact: We learned that the saying "play opossom" comes from the fact that opossoms faint when they get scared. They don't mean to play dead; it comes naturally.
After cake and opening presents, we went on a nature hike, or as my dad called it a "death march." It was a little longer than we thought.
But it was cool along the shady trail. The perfect conclusion to birthday season.