Fishies

I took Lyla to the zoo today and met my mom there. Here she is looking at the only thing she really looks at when we go to the zoo: the fish.


They move slow, they're colorful, and the water reminds her of the womb. Maybe. Anyway, being Good Friday and all, the zoo was a zoo. I had to assertively squish my way between two kids so Lyla could get a spot at the tank, all the while hoping no one stole my stroller, which I had ditched on the back wall.

When Lyla gets older, I picture taking her to the zoo and trying to teach her the animal names.

"This is a Malayan Tapir, Lyla. Can you say Tapir?"

"Puppy!"

But for some reason, I have a premonition that Lyla won't ask us to take her to the zoo. She'll ask us to take her to the fishies.