“There’s a lost child wearing a bright orange t-shirt…”
We heard a brief snippet of the announcement come over the attendant’s walkie-talkie as we waited to board the Zoo Train. In a moment, I was back at my high school summer job… a hostess at Marine World, Africa USA. It was a dream job for me. I was outside all day, working with the guests at the shows, around animals, and able to eat pretzels and soft-serve for my lunch. My uniform… shorts, a cute shirt and espadrilles, ended up giving me the weirdest tan lines that didn’t really go away for years afterwards. This, though, was more like a badge of honor… how could anyone not envy my job? My favorite shift to get was the first one of the day. Arriving before the park was open, it felt like I had it all to myself. The paths were perfectly clean and everything was quiet but for the call of the animals now and then. When this was combined with a shift at the dolphin show my day was perfect. There I would say hello to my dolphin friends and they would follow me around the arena as I prepared it for the show. We had a fun game of tag where I would go in one direction along the tank and they would chase me until they could splash me with water, then I would turn and go the other way and they would try to repeat it. I even enjoyed working in the information booth… a shift that for some reason the other hosts felt was the worst. I liked answering questions for the guests and welcoming them as soon as they walked in the front gates. The only part of the job I hated was when a child would become lost and be brought to us to care for. Being with the poor, scared child wasn’t the part I disliked; I appreciated the chance to try to reassure them and make them feel better. It was only when the parents arrived that my anxiety would peak. If the parents found them quickly all was fine. But for some reason, the longer it had been the angrier they were with the child when they finally found them. After being with the scared child for a while, it was almost impossible for me to watch quietly while the parents yelled at them for disappearing. Now, of course, as a parent I understand better. For one thing, although my daughter was never a runner, I have seen plenty of other children who are. Warning after warning makes no difference… and it is only after getting truly lost that the child learns the lesson about staying close to their parent. I also learned, in that info booth, how easily it can happen. So while my daughter doesn’t enjoy hearing my directions every time we go somewhere crowded, I still remind her of what to do if we are separated. This article by wikihow provides excellent suggestion for keeping children safe at amusement parks, which from the sound of it the parents of the lost zoo child did well. And I like to think that when they found him, rather than yelling, he got a huge hug.
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“Is this lunch or dinner?”
“Neither, it’s Happy Hour.” … At which point my husband and I broke down in hysterics. The irony of our answer was lost on my daughter, who was in one of those places where nothing was going to make her happy. We were sitting in a beautiful spot, overlooking the Lake, on our last night in Tahoe and trying desperately to enjoy our drink, if not our time. Ahhh summer…. A time of ice cream trucks, water fights, and whining. They go together like peas and carrots and corn. I’m bored. When can I watch TV? Are we doing anything fun today? I don’t want to go to the grocery store. Are we there yet? The complaints are never ending and are set up so that by the time September rolls around we are more than ready to get up at 6:00 a.m. again and send our little loves out into the world of school. (Sigh, give me a moment to dream about this….. ok, I’m back) Don’t get me wrong; I love the extra time I get to spend with her when she isn’t whinging about something. I love watching her build a huge lego tennis court (after we have insisted that 8:00 a.m. is far too early to begin watching tv). And I really love being able to get outdoors bike riding or playing on the street with friends and neighbors (when the Portland rain finally lets up). It’s just that, like most parents, I wish we could do all this without the drama that prefaces it. However I may have discovered a solution… A friend recently returned home from a family visit to their parent’s farm in South Dakota. The kids learned, when they arrived there, that there were no computers, Wii, video games and you could only watch channel by channel on the tv. After the first few days of pain, the kids finally gave in, accepted it, and would simply go outside as soon as they got up in the morning. So next year we are definitely vacationing at a farm! Even without any fancy drinks involved it sounds like the very happiest happy-hour of all. Happy 4th of July to all my friends! God Bless the USA. |
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June 2020
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