Boo at the Zoo
The band of usual suspects and I, (my family: wife, kids, mother-in-law) packed up the Griswald mobile and headed to Akron for Boo at the Zoo, a trick-or-treat outing in which children not only make stops for treats, but also view the animal exhibits. We had a blast!
My oldest donned a hooded black robe and skull mask (complete with gushing, dripping blood) and portrayed a "killer" macabre demon of some kind. He even managed to unwittingly scare a small child. It was not his fault. My younger children are used to seeing the costume, so he gauges all reactions by those of his little brother and sister. God Bless Him. I think he was genuinely hurt by the fact that a small boy was terrified of him. He subsequently ripped off the mask, on the verge of tears, and said he didn't want to trick-or-treat anymore. My wife, mother-in-law, and I tried our best to console him, but he needed, as he always does in these moments to take his time and calm down. He is so sensitive, my oldest boy, and it is one of his finest qualities when it doesn't get the best of him. I see him trying everyday to figure out who he is in this world and to navigate the emotional pitfalls that a young boy must encounter. I love him so much. He is going to be a great man.
My daughter, the youngest, was delighted with all the sights. She was so patient and good-natured, bravely smiling through the crisp autumn air with rosy cheeks and red nose--perfectly complementing her little black plush kitty costume.
My younger son was his usual happy, contented, little self, but in a moment's notice fitful, especially when being dragged screaming from an exhibit. His attention span, being that of a two year old, dictates that whatever he is doing at the moment seems to him to be the entire reason for the trip. He would become fixated on the current animal or activity and then refuse to move on when it was time. Thus, I would carry my screaming little Batman (yes folks, he's mine... I'm not hurting him) to the next stop where he would be happy as ever until...
One of his signature moments occurred at the final Jellyfish exhibit. Titled Rhythm in the Blue, a dimly lit room was filled with tanks of colorful jellyfish of various sizes and speeds pulsating their way through the water. My little boy exclaimed "Whoa! Look at all the Jellybeans!" He is famous for priceless phrasing and reactions such as this.
Being with my wife and children, as always enhances every moment of my life. It is easy, I have found, to slip into a mode of frustration, often dealing with the fatigue and worry of child-rearing. I now want to concentrate on the many positive moments and memories that I can carry with me every day.
My oldest donned a hooded black robe and skull mask (complete with gushing, dripping blood) and portrayed a "killer" macabre demon of some kind. He even managed to unwittingly scare a small child. It was not his fault. My younger children are used to seeing the costume, so he gauges all reactions by those of his little brother and sister. God Bless Him. I think he was genuinely hurt by the fact that a small boy was terrified of him. He subsequently ripped off the mask, on the verge of tears, and said he didn't want to trick-or-treat anymore. My wife, mother-in-law, and I tried our best to console him, but he needed, as he always does in these moments to take his time and calm down. He is so sensitive, my oldest boy, and it is one of his finest qualities when it doesn't get the best of him. I see him trying everyday to figure out who he is in this world and to navigate the emotional pitfalls that a young boy must encounter. I love him so much. He is going to be a great man.
My daughter, the youngest, was delighted with all the sights. She was so patient and good-natured, bravely smiling through the crisp autumn air with rosy cheeks and red nose--perfectly complementing her little black plush kitty costume.
My younger son was his usual happy, contented, little self, but in a moment's notice fitful, especially when being dragged screaming from an exhibit. His attention span, being that of a two year old, dictates that whatever he is doing at the moment seems to him to be the entire reason for the trip. He would become fixated on the current animal or activity and then refuse to move on when it was time. Thus, I would carry my screaming little Batman (yes folks, he's mine... I'm not hurting him) to the next stop where he would be happy as ever until...
One of his signature moments occurred at the final Jellyfish exhibit. Titled Rhythm in the Blue, a dimly lit room was filled with tanks of colorful jellyfish of various sizes and speeds pulsating their way through the water. My little boy exclaimed "Whoa! Look at all the Jellybeans!" He is famous for priceless phrasing and reactions such as this.
Being with my wife and children, as always enhances every moment of my life. It is easy, I have found, to slip into a mode of frustration, often dealing with the fatigue and worry of child-rearing. I now want to concentrate on the many positive moments and memories that I can carry with me every day.