I was on call last night and I am on call again tomorrow. In fact, of the past eight days, I have spent four of those nights in the hospital. It's like status workalepticus. But anyway, I got home this morning, and we decided to make the most of a nice family day by heading over to the Bronx Zoo.
The above is not a picture of the zoo, rather it is a picture of what we had to prize out of Cal's hands in order for us to be able to leave the house. If I never see another episode of "Thomas and Friends," I will still hear those bitchy trains sniping at each other in my brain for all eternity. We finally managed to trap him with some very convincing talk about seeing a real train (well, a monorail, really, but he doesn't know the difference) and visiting the animals, but he still wouldn't leave the house until we had stashed a few trains in his diaper bag.
And there were a lot of animals. Look Cal, a tree kangaroo! With an actual joey in her pouch!
And look Cal, monkeys!
Cal, look! Look Cal! A panther!
Ooh, and look! It's a...something. (A tapir? I want to say tapir, but I don't really know what that is.)
However, in typical almost-two year-old infuriating fashion, this is what Cal was really interested in. Stairs. If we had let him, he would have been going up and down those stairs all day. Another high point: when we were on the monorail, having sanguinely observed the elephants and the red panda and five million species of Asian deer, Cal suddenly comes to life, excitedly pointing in front of us and shouting, "Dirt!" Dude, we have dirt at home.
On the "Skyfari" transport system. This made Cal very nervous, and he kept turning to us and asking, "Done? Done?"
At least he got some french fries out of the deal. Also, man are my hands vein-y. They're like zombie hands. Although I have to admit that I like having those big veins. One embarrassing secret that I will reveal to you is that sometimes in the OR, I sit there fondling my own veins and fantasize about the large bore IVs I could stick in them. This is an illness. I know that.
Anyway, hope everyone is having a nice weekend. Also, if you live in the New York area and are pregnant, don't go into labor tomorrow. I'm just tired is all. Though I have to say, I'm glad I wasn't on call today. I'm sure lots of people wanted a baby with a 7/7/07 birthday. As opposed to last year, when women going into labor on 6/6/06 were probably crossing their legs and hoping to wait it out. Because, you know, any kid born on 6/6/06 is going to be Damien.