Sunday, August 25th, 2013
2 years, 9 months.
We drove away from the Nashville Zoo this afternoon with you asking me, “Daddy, why Giraffe Man? Why he there?”
I attempted to explain to you that he really likes kids and giraffes.
But that just raised even more important questions.
You evidently concluded from my answer that “Giraffe Man” sleeps in the zoo with the other giraffes but has the privilege of walking through the midst of human families at the zoo and having his picture taken with them.
We kept talking about Giraffe Man even after we got home.
I’m pretty sure you want him to join us for dinner in the near future.
At some point, you’re going to ask me if Elmo and Mickey Mouse and Giraffe Man are real.
That will be a sad day for me.
I love it that your imagination leads you to believe that these mutant creatures might actually be part of the real world, instead of people in costumes or controlling a puppet.
As I look at the ridiculous picture of us with Giraffe Man, I sure hope that of all random events you may or may not be remembering for life right now, that you remember this day.
It would be awesome if in a few years from now, you ask me about being at the zoo with me and seeing a giraffe person or something.
Then I can say, “Yeah, that was from when I was training for the half marathon and you and I spent a Sunday afternoon at the zoo together. I ran while pushing you in the stroller throughout the whole zoo and at the end, we had our picture made with a man (or woman) in a giraffe costume.”
I never really know what you’re actually comprehending or remembering at this age. It’s interesting to think about, though.
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