Where The Wild Things Are

As part of our Spring Break adventure, we decided to take the children to an animal wildlife reserve.    I was a little leary to start with but when we got there and I saw this…

…I became downright concerned.    Having been adequately warned that we may very well be bathed in animal slobber, we were then advised that we probably didn’t want to take our own car and instead might want to rent one of their  “special vans”….

…which we did.    Those cute kids and Mom in the pink shirt you don’t recognize are The Man’s sister and her adorable kids.     In tiny lady in the yellow at the end is the only and only MIL and Grandmother extraordinaire and the person who was responsible for the spit bath we were about to take and the laughs that ensued. Check out these pictures and you’ll understand why her grandbabies love her so much.

Armed with approximately 20 lbs of critter kibble, we headed out and were immediately greeted by this guy:

Not getting as much food as he wanted he made his point a little more clear:

And when that didn’t work, he tried to eat the hand of my MIL.

I think my SIL is laughing at her soon to be almost one handed Mom which is just all kinds of wrong.     But we were soon to encounter a much more aggressive and slobbery animal, this guy:

Want to hear me scream like a little girl?   Here you go…

I truly believe he was trying to French Kiss my husband. Also wrong. Want to see the giraffe try to eat the car and kids while leaving a slimey spit string behind? I can accomodate that as well.

But while all that was going on, a sinister creature had approached our car. I’m going to call him the Quick Bird of Death (just like my friend Cynical Dad called the ostriches in his hysterical post “Terror at the Lazy 5 Ranch”. He’s the only person more frightened by Ostriches than me I think…).

And I was all, “OMG, you are the ugliest creature that God ever created” at which point he started to look around to see who I was talking about and was all, “Who me???”

But my favorite picture is this, because while I can’t exactly remember the sound the animal was making as it demanded food, but The Man decided to answer in kind:

He’s sort of the Slobbery Animal Whisperer.

Wait…No, I mean the animals are slobbery, not him.

Most of the time.

The End.