Dinos and Dreams
Fear dances with courage. ~ Ever GarrisonWe took the monkeys to the Imaginarium in Fort Myers yesterday and it was a mammoth mistake.
Upon entering the rather unsightly building, we walked up to what looked like a sandy little pool with caramel colored diamond shapes cheerfully circling it round and round. Upon further inspection, we noticed that they were evil smiling rays (skates? demons of the deep?) trying desperately to leap out of the poorly secured murk and onto my leg. This should have been my first clue that, hell, if mommy's already terrified, perhaps her two-year-olds are, too...?
But noooo. We trudged through the first of many dank, cement halls... tiny fingers encircling our own and cutting off all circulation to the rest of our bodies... like ten silent unanswered pleas to get. the hell. out of there. We cheerfully walked through the rodent and reptile room, saying ridiculous things like, "Ooooh, Lila, look at that big snake! He's so silly and so close to my face!" and "Wow, AJ, isn't that a cool scorpion? Look at his big black pincers!" Poor Lila just stood back, beckoning me to follow, very softly repeating, "Too keery. Too keery, mama. Too keery." *sigh*
Tried to make the 12.15pm screening of, oh I don't know, "More Evil to Frighten Your Toddlers With" (?) and the kids knew instantaneously they wanted no part of it. Stepped one foot into the dark, curtained entry aaaand screams, shouts, wails of "Too keery!", stepped back into the sunlight, and now we're off to the shaky bridge where biting black swans can nip at our fingers and carp the size of sharks can scare the shit out of AJ.
And then it was time for the dinosaurs. Huge, snarling, moving replicas of scary-ass monsters--toothy behemoths from a time stretching eons and eons ago but, as far as my poor children know, could be lurking in the parking lot of Target during our very next shopping trip. Try explaining to a 2-year-old that the big plastic dinosaur is not real but ensuring her that her plastic baby doll is... Too confusing. Too keery.
Lila woke up at 5am crying. I ran upstairs and tried to comfort her. As she and I lay on the bed in my office, surrounded by fluffy blankets and early morning light, I could hear her little sad breaths. She had had a bad dream about Santa. She whispered, "No more Christmas, mama. And no more dinosaurs, 'kay?"
No more dinosaurs. We'll stick with the Coconut Point Mall and the fun little choo-choo that takes us all to J.Crew, thank you very much.