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  • Attack of the Wild Hippo-Loving Baby

    For Father's Day, we took an extended family trip to the zoo.  My folks came with Sean, Axel, and me to check out the formerly wildlife and have a picnic.  Axel's inner monologue during his day at the zoo went like this:

    "Yeah!  I'm outside of the house.  I love people.  I love motion.  I love to eat socks.  Oh no!  I'm trapped in my stroller!  Why are there all these legs passing me by?  What is everyone looking at beyond the fence?  Why do I have to wear a hat?  Why does my mom keep on pointing at things?  Doesn't she know that I have furrier animals than that at home that I can touch and crawl after?  What is that big lumpy thing in the distance that isn't moving?  Why can't I put goose poop in my mouth?  Why can't I get a handful of monkey?  Why can't I eat the carousel pole?  Why is everyone thwarting me?  Oh, dude!  I have socks and I can eat them!  That is fantastic." 

     

     

    It was a confusing, but good, day for a baby.  Axel did see some hippos blowing bubbles, moving penguins, swans, and monkeys, and he also briefly pondered the goat in the petting area - the goat that decided my shirt looked like lunch and didn't want to let go.  Other than that, he was more interested in the inanimate objects the zoo had to offer, like railings, grass, his feet, his grandmother's water bottle, and the shiny gold poles on the carousel.  Things that could be captured and put into his mouth.   Babies and goats have a lot in common.

     

     

    I also brought a pretty fantastic Father's Day picnic, if I do say so myself, including homemade cupcakes.  They were delicious, even though I used ricotta instead of mascarpone because I got confused by the range of soft Italian dairy products available at the store.  The lunch, combined with the fritatta I made my husband this morning, used up all of my limited though enthusiastic culinary efforts for the week, if not the month.  Someone who confuses mascarpone with ricotta is probably not a natural whiz in the kitchen.  Sean knows his way around a saucepan, which is why I got him an assortment of fancy spices for Father's Day, along with a new shirt to add to his spit-up stained shirt collection.

     

    Seven months is too young to appreciate the animals, wonder how the Alf-crossed-with-a-pig tapir got its black and white chunked coat, or get depressed about the gerenuk's limited space to run, but you're never too young to experience the joys of the carousel and eating your own feet. 

     

     


  • Father's Day

    It's almost Father's Day - time for those gift guides that always include something for the grill, gadgets, a moneyclip or paperweight, a shaving kit, and a oversized mug with a clever golf-related pun on it, like "Fore! Strong coffee only."  No, I'm not a golfer.  How'd you guess?   Judging from these lists, every father in America must have a garage full of BBQ gear to go with his MP3 playing de-icer that's also a nose hair trimmer and makes pretty good waffles in a pinch.  Who makes these lists?  Is Ward Cleaver behind them?  Does anyone ever need (or want) a paperweight?  

     

    My man likes to cook, and he throws food on the grill from time to time - but I don't think he wants to have a silver-plated set of tongs to use to flip his jalapeno turkey burgers.  He doesn't play golf.  He doesn't have a red tracksuit and heavy gold chains to go with a moneyclip.  I refuse to buy him anything battery-operated that supposedly slices, dices, and opens a cold beer, all while playing a medly of classic rock.  

     

    More and more it feels like holidays are bumping up on one another, just one Target circular after another based on the newest holiday/gift-giving theme.  I'm all for celebrating life and the people I'm lucky enough to have in my life, I love a good surprise, and I'm a sucker for any occasion that can include a meal with family and friends.  Still, I'm overwhelmed by the holiday pile-up.  Can't the greeting card/unnecessary crap peddlers give us all a break? 

     

    I do want to express my appreciation for Sean as a, well, totally awesome father and husband on his first Father's Day.  He takes care of Axel, and he makes me rice pudding when I'm sick (as I was this past weekend, and let me tell you that vomit + nursing is not a good combination).  He's a one man slicing/dicing gadget in the kitchen, he goes halfsies on nighttime baby duty when he's not at work (which apparently doesn't always happen), and he's not all that bad looking, either.  Axel loves him, too, of course - that's what I interpret Axel adoring stares and big grins followed by drops of drool on his father's head to mean.  I've got some ideas that don't involve batteries or charcoal or sandtraps but, since my husband reads this blog, I can't post them here, or I'll ruin the surprise.  Axel is focused on the unique squishiness of the yoga mat right now, so he isn't really a big help in the gift giving department.

     

     

    How about you?  What are you getting for the fathers in your life?  What's the best Father's Day gift you've ever given or, if you're a dad, received?   

     

        



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About the Blogger

Oz Spies

Oz Spies in Denver

Oz Spies lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband, a firefighter; their son, Axel; and a slightly obese dog and cat. She has a MFA in Creative Writing from Colorado State University.

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