We picked my dad up in Seattle yesterday on the tail end of a trip he took to visit his sisters. We had a day to spend in the city before both of my parents started the trek back to Alaska. It was an extreme urban adventure that involved getting lost three times, Genevieve throwing up in the car, a claustrophobic grandmama trapped by her seatbelt and Marguerite's carseat, and watching a gorilla eat its own shit. Sounds awful I realize, but it was actually so much fun! After dropping my parents off at the airport we drove home in the dark, two girls racked out in their carseats and just my thoughts to keep me company on the road. I hate saying goodbye to my parents, always leaving them with a lump in my throat, wishing we lived closer, grateful that they make the effort to be here.
Left wondering why we saw a gorilla eating its own feces? The zoo, silly. We spent the better part of the day there, the girls vying for as much grandpapa time as they could squeeze out of an afternoon and my mom and I getting as much arm linked visiting in, debriefing our week of shared domesticity.
I walk away from a zoo experience feeling conflicted. Amazing conservation and educational efforts to celebrate and support juxtaposed by the heartbreaking gaze of animals in captivity. Heavy.
Today was a day of sinking back into the routine, which I did a pretty crappy job of as evident by what I made for dinner:
(scrambled eggs and green beans not shown here)
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