WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE
Well the King and I have returned to the States (with my
husband of course, we cannot forget about him. Death do us part, and all that),
and we have happily entered my father’s wonderfully crazy kingdom that this year we have deemed
the zoo. Before I start to describe the ins and outs of our surroundings (for
sh*ts and giggles you can check out last summer’s description of our visit: http://www.antheaanka.com/2011_07_03_archive.html),
I would be remiss in discussing how it was to get here.
As I have discussed many many times traveling with young
children is like entering battle. A bloody, exhaustive, challenging mine-field
ladened battle that is not for the weak. No, I do not exaggerate. Between
navigating the airport where the King is now keen to climb on the baggage scales
and weigh himself and run through the crowds like a lightning rod with his hair on fire, we certainly had our work cut out for us.
This time the King's energy was inspired by something altogether
frightening. I’m not sure if it was a testorene surge or if he had developed
an sugar habit while I wasn’t looking, but he was bursting with an energy
that was turning our hair white. By the time we got to the gate
to board the plane, we were both sweating, fatigued, wrinkled and weathered,
and we still had a ten hour flight in front of us. The omen for the flight to
come was when the King decided to wedge himself in between a vending machine
and the wall, getting his head stuck in the process and letting out a serious
of dolphin like noises that made the entire waiting area look over and gasp. Of
course all my husband and I could do was nervously laugh – it sounds cruel, but
nervous laughter is sometimes the only route one can take.
Needless to say the flight over involved my husband and I
looking at each other hour after hour muttering with fear in our
eyes, ‘do you think he looks tired? Why doesn’t he look tired?’ Whilst it was
five hours past his bedtime, the King had no intention of sleeping and was certain to let the whole cabin know it.
Alas, we landed, made it to my father's house, dragged ourselves through the front door, and quickly realised that we had entered a zoo like arena. In addition to my energetic and forever youthful father, there are now birds (seven of them I
think), gekko’s, snakes, turtles, dogs, and some lizard thing that I’m not sure exactly what it is - I was also informed there are rattlesnakes that I have to look out for, but those aren't pets thank god.
One of the dog’s is clearly not into people, the other one couldn’t be
more so, and the last dog has a gas problem of the likes that I have
encountered and keeps provoking me to check the King’s diaper and book him an
appointment with an gastro interologist, only to realize I should take the dog
instead. So, needless to say, there is a lot of action going on and the King is revelling in every inch of it.
Anyway, I'm off to make sure the King hasn't thrown the basketball in the turtle's cage or tried to take the snake out for a walk in his new suitcase he likes to pull around the house. Never a dull day even on this side of the world.
Happy Tuesday.