Before

Before the Big Flu of 2011 took my legs out from under me (see below), I took the kids to a local petting zoo.














(No legs llama.)


It couldn't have been a prettier day. Lower 60s, sunny enough for squinting, and just ridiculously lovely outside.














Abby charged right in with the feeding of the goats (sheep?).
She would've stuck her little hand in there even if there was a fire breathing two headed purple hela monster on the other side, I think.














Thank goodness they were neither fire breathing, two-headed, nor purple.














Although one did scream at us like he meant every word. Whatever infraction we were committing, it was evidently inconceivable in the goat world (Sheep world? I give up.) because this little brown baby let his displeasure known until we backed far away toward the outside exit sign.














Outside wasn't so bad, what with more hungry critters.
Big bro was not to be outdone by his fearless little sis.















And of course we already knew I couldn't keep my grubby little paws out of the mix either.















We were all about feeding these billies.














Some of us were quite proud of it, in fact.














My little cowboy wannabe was certainly getting in touch with his natural side.















Thanks for your patience, Ladies. Even you, little pissed off Brown One.















A few steps outside, Abby decides to take a powder up and away from us.




















But she comes right back so we were okay.







































And of course there were the obligatory kids-sitting-on-animal-statue-so-Mommy-can-have-a cute-new-Facebook-picture series




















Which produced more silliness than profiles but who could care with smiles like those?














We didn't stick around too long to watch these guys. Alligators (crocodiles? I really should've paid more attention in kindergarten.) creep all of us out so we hit the stage for a quick number instead.




























Here is where I was seen doing The Dougie in public. Badly. Moving on to Abby's impersonation of an ostrich. Or was it an ostrich impersonation of an Abby? Not quite sure.


























































Whatever. They were both spot on. An hour or so into the trip, we spotted this little monkey.














And he spotted us right the hell back.




















Abby gravitated toward this little nonworking merry-go-round immediately.















And had to try sitting on each animal before we could move on toward the bathrooms for a potty break.














Which was digitally documented too, of course.














(I think I'll do this jungle theme in our next house.)














Minus the overflowing disgusto wastepaper basket and repulsive staph infection galore floor. P.S. Could Abby be more tired?














Snack time!




















Someone perked up for Teddy Grahams and Mommy's Sun Chips.














Ten minutes before closing time, last call for goat alcohol!




















And Abby returns to her one true love for one last hurrah as well.















No wonder this is what I saw behind me for the entire ride home. It was a very good day. One I can now look back on and thank the flu for knocking me to my keister on Sunday, not Saturday.














The End.
C'est tout.
Peace.
Adioche.
I'm going to bed.
You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.
Or you can.
I should be back for posting more regularly now and since the kids no longer love me, I mean nap, I am taking an hour each day to visit with my bloggities because I've missed you. I've really missed you. Goodnight, you guys. And for the love of God and billy goats, stay away from local petting zoo bathrooms. Or at least bathe in sani-wipes if you must.