While living in Vegas, my employer prepared many, many tax returns but always waited to mail them until the very last day so that he could have many, many Shark Reef tickets to share with his grandchildren. One year, he gave two to me, and Daniel and I went.
This was pretty much the best day of our lives. Two nerds like us at a FREE museum? Heck, we went through twice. If there is one thing the Jolleys take seriously, it's a museum. You don't want to be stuck in our tour group because we ask every question we have ever pondered, related to the subject or not. In fact, that particular day, we distracted one tour guide so well that a two year old wandered behind him and stuck her hand in the piranha tank.
We petted the stingrays, freaked out over an alligator we thought was a log (my Florida self laughs in the face of my Nevada self for this) and spent about eleventy billion hours inside this tunnel:
But out of everything we saw, the animal that the greatest impact on us?
The komodo dragon.
The venom of a komodo dragon is killer . . . literally. There is no antidote for the saliva from one of these bad boys. When a komodo dragon wants to eat, it will bite that poor animal and then leave it alone because it knows it will die. And no other animals will go near it because it has the mark of the komodo dragon. And no matter how far the animal tries to run after getting bitten, it doesn't matter. The komodo dragon can track the animal because of the saliva he (or she, you sexists!) has left on it.
I should narrate Animal Planet, right?
Anyway, even though it's called the Shark Reef, to us it was all about the komodo dragon. One of the tour guides told me how he had to trick the komodo dragon every night into entering into his nighttime cage. If I worked there, I would constantly volunteer to clean the men's bathrooms to avoid this responsibility.
This experience has prepared us for parenthood.
Meet . . . Komodo Junie.
And yes, she is adorable. But her saliva is also deadly. Girlfriend has the worst spit-up problem! Everything her spit-up touches is gone forever. Just today, I was at a friend's house and June spit up orange gunk all over their carpet. Orange. I was mortified. As I scrubbed their floor, I was so grateful for my friend, Amy, who kept reassuring me it was fine that June had just spit up on their new carpet in their new house. "We are going to put hardwood floor in here anyway, " she said. May I always show the same mercy to mothers of small children.
June has entered that phase. The phase where everything is crazy all of the time phase. Don't get me wrong--I enjoy June so much. I thought I never wanted her to stop being a newborn, but now I see more of why people don't like that phase. June is more fun now.
She is learning new things, like climbing:
And eating different things:
But she is crazy too. And into everything:
Last Friday, I put her to bed. She was crying crying crying, but I was holding out strong. Next thing I know--THUD. When I ran into her room, I discovered that she climbed out of her crib and fell to the floor.
One day before that, she climbed up on her little chest of drawers, and they, together with a lamp on top, toppled on top of her. I had a heart attack. She laughed.
Yay! More stuff to play with!
Any of you have a crazy baby story to share? Or has your kid ever spit up on someone else's carpet? Or broken something at someone else's house?