All Aboard the Biracial Jeep

Wait, you’ve never been on a biracial jeep before? Daaaaaaaaaaaang! Hop on, America! Except that this jeep is in Boise, Idaho, so if you’re at all averse to riding jeeps in the potato state, get off this blog immediately, cause it’s going to be a wild ride! And by “wild,” I mean giraffes bones will be seen, iced coffees will be consumed (at 7pm, no less!), and children will scream down Interstate 84. It doesn’t get much wilder than the sounds of trucks rambling along the I-84 “accented”, shall we say, with the screams of an 8 month old in a Chevy.

B.T.! You look so white for a child playing on a biracial jeep!

This jeep is actually a large child’s prop at the Boise Zoo, where we ventured last Monday.

Last year, there was a white lady hanging out with her child as he steered this jeep. The woman was looking at her digital camera, saying loudly, “Wow! You can really tell you’re biracial in these photos!!” Her kid was probably four years old and totally ignoring her, so we’re pretty sure she was, as my husband puts it, “looking for a hero cookie.” (We also suspect she may have been near a boombox when this child was conceived.) So this year, as we walked up to the jeep, we were like, “Oh, look. It’s the biracial jeep.” The name stuck, even when we had to get parental with B.T.:  “B.T. get out of that biracial jeep RIGHT NOW or YOU WILL GET IN TROUBLE RIGHT IN THIS ZOO.”

This was our second family trip to Boise (you can read about the first one here). This time, we left a little earlier and were a tiny bit more prepared to travel with a 2.5 year old and an 8 month old in 95+ degree weather. Actually, just the fact that we made it to our destination this time speaks volumes of what a success the day was. By the way, “success” in these cases is defined as “everyone gets fed, stays safe, and has at least 10 minutes of fun.”

Now I know you guys probably think I am a huge fan of animals, but on that you’d be dead wrong. Both Ryan and I vastly prefer the types of animals that never come near us. So I don’t mean to shock you, but the real point of going to the zoo wasn’t to bask in the beauty of  mammals. B.T. loves animals. We love B.T. So we figured it would be fun to watch B.T. watch the animals. See what I’m saying here?

And it was fun – as fun as trudging around a zoo in August heat can be.  Here are my highlights:

1. B.T. and the Goats. B.T. was scared of the goats last year. Leading up to this trip, he told us roughly 37 times a day that he wanted to feed the goats. “Goats not scary,” he said.

Brace yourselves, farm animals. Here I come.

Before he began his approach, he said, “Ooooooooo! Nice goats!”

We all need to be stroked once in awhile.

Totally not scared this year. More like…cautious. He also likes goat beards.

And I suppose it should also be noted that his wish to feed the goats was not fulfilled. Something about dragging two kids around in million degree weather made the idea of holding animal food in my bare hands disgusting and unacceptable. Just absolutely not going to happen.

2. The Butterfly Exhibit. The teenage zoo staff are quite jumpy about people stepping on butterflies or inadvertently taking one home. I assume each butterfly is worth something like $10,000 for how many times we have to listen to the rules before we enter the butterfly zone. Also, I was hoping for a slightly less embarrassing experience from last year, when a butterfly planted itself on my ass and one of the employees had to brush it off. Best two seconds of your life, teenage zoo employee!

Hey, butterflies! Can I have some of your very old fruit?

This year, all insects managed restrain themselves from my backside and enjoy their moldy fruit while my son sat with them. B.T. loved this, and kept saying, “I sit with those butterflies!” like he just had lunch with President Obama. Or maybe since he isn’t too familiar with Obama, we can say Optimus Prime – who by the way would probably make a way better president than Obama. For example, I’m not even sure Obama believes that freedom is the right of all sentient beings.

3. Bones. I’m not sure this qualifies as a “favorite,” but we hit a bit of a disturbing note when we went to see the giraffes and instead of giraffes there was this:

Welcome to the zoo! We killed all the animals, but we left their bones for you to enjoy!

B.T. did not notice anything morbid in the least about the fact that the giraffes had been seemingly replaced with their bones. He was terribly concerned, however, with the absence of dragon bones. He pointed excitedly at the giraffe bones, but then asked repeatedly, “Where dragon bones?”

Quick math: a country led by Optimus Prime + a zoo full of dragons = BEST COUNTRY EVER. I mean, how much faster would Osama bin Laden have been killed if we packed up our dragons and let them loose again in Afghanistan? THINK ABOUT IT.

4. Water Snakes. We’re not sure where he got the idea that snakes inhabit water, but B.T.’s  first reaction to this river was, “Oooo water! Where the snakes are?”

Where are all the mutha f&*%^# snakes in this mutha f*&@#% water?

5. Baby Ham Hates the Jeep. I tried to let Baby Ham share in the joys of the biracial jeep. He didn’t like it much. I hope he’s not a racist baby. I hear that can happen if you wean them too soon.

But Baby Ham, did I mention how biracial he looked in those photos?

I’m smiling in this photo because I think it’s kind-of funny that he was so scared of sitting in the Jeep. Maybe he would’ve calmed down if I had taken him more seriously.

6. Why Madagascar? Ryan inexplicably instructed B.T. to “point to Madagascar” to take this photo:

It must say something about my personality (or my age or my gender) that my absolute favorite part of the entire day was sitting in an air-conditioned Starbucks, sipping iced coffee while I watched B.T. play with a motorcycle toy.

How to get your tired child to behave (a little bit) better: buy him a motorcycle toy and get him some a/c.

Don’t peek! Probably just wait a sec and you’ll see something.

And oh yes, that’s me nursing Baby Ham in Starbucks. I actually hate publicly nursing, especially when babies are old enough to be very interested in playing with the nursing cover and very uninterested in keeping mommy from flashing strangers. So probably if you Google “awkward Starbucks boob shots” you’ll find a perv or two who’s making loads of cash off the fact that my baby needed to be fed. You’re welcome, pervs!

And for our grand finale, I did indeed visit that most sacred of all retail spaces, Target. I had about three shirts that fit me before my trip to Target, and now I have…well, still three. But that’s less about Target and more about a very bad decision involving a bathtub and some bleach.

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3 thoughts on “All Aboard the Biracial Jeep

  1. Yea. The zoo. I loved the zoo last summer. That was so funny when that lady made that “biracial” remark. That was so odd. You and I (and Ryan) all share our preference for keeping animals of any kind at a distance. It’s so much better that way. OMG, I forgot about the Butterfly Exhibit. I thought they were going to frisk us on the way out in case we had tried to sneak a tiny butterfly out in our pockets or something.They must of had a butterfly theft in past tours.Oh, how clever of you to sneak politics in a blog about the zoo. I’m trying to figure out a way not to vote for either candidate. Oh yes, that would be just not to vote at all. Wow, really no giraffs at all? Wonder where they all went. The fact that you said your favorite part of the day was an air conditioned Starbucks actually says YOUR SMART. Oh, and now I want to know what happened with the bathtub and bleach. Another great blog. Love you, MOM

  2. Can you please go back and catch some butterflies for me? I’d rather sell those than take more student loans-thanx. Also, I am really confused by the giraffe bones-did it die so they thought it was a good idea? I hope they don’t do the same thing with the zoo keepers or people who work in the gift shop.

    • The giraffes weren’t actually dead. They were visiting another exhibit, and came back later. I don’t understand why the bones were there anyway, though. It was morbid.

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