I went to baby animal days at the American West Heritage joint here in town this past Friday. They’ve held it for years, but I’ve never been on account of the fact that it’s really geared towards kids, and the last time I had a kid was on the 32nd of Neverember. Lindsay and BoBo had been visiting all week, so we took the opportunity to expose him to bajillions of kid and baby animal germs. You are welcome! I knew I was in for a treat when one of the first things I see was this:
Stroller parking is perfectly normal… this was just part of the parking lot for strollers… there were several more. I needed a new set of wheels myself… I should’ve grand theft autoed that red one! Strorvette, y’all!
Baby BoBo was such a ham… ham… get it!? Oh my laws, stop it Whitney… the amount of slaying going on up in here is way too much for a Mondee morning! He definitely knows how to find the camera whenever there is one around. You can just call him George Clooney from here on out.
If I’m being honest, I mostly felt really bad for the poor baby animals. Thousands of kids trying to snap their necks off all day is, I’m sure, not their idea of a good old-fashioned shindig. Plus, those piggies are obviously introvert piggies… trying to hide underneath the straw to restore their introvert energy shields. Baby animal psychology 1010… look it up!
Baby BoBo was all like… oh hi, Calf… let me pull your ears off.
GIVE ME THE CHICKIE!!!
The above is a video of BoBo getting extremely frustrated that he can’t hold the danged chickie… YOU EVIL PEOPLE, YOU!
This here baby duckling is lucky to be alive… I predicted using it’s neck as a handle on a rattle if he’d been given the opportunity.
BoBo is like… oh, do you have the camera on!?
Good times… except for one small problem. There were food booths in one section of the shindig wherein they sold lunch and snacks… things like large bags of popcorn/kettle corn where all 5 kids in the family after rubbing up all over animals who had been rubbing up in their own crap all day then stuck their grimey hands into said bags of popcorn (I, of course, renamed them to CRAPCORN because it was accurate!) I almost drank my entire bottle of hand sanitizer having to witness all of these traumatizing events… I MEAN, FOR THE LOVE OF CRAPCORN!