Page 42 of SEAL'S Baby Surprise
There is a dispenser of treats just outside her stall, so nothing would do but that we purchase one of the green cubes and feed it to the appreciative little lady.
“Me, too, Daddy,” Julia nearly dances up and down with excitement. So I give her the requisite coins, and she buys one of the green cubes. The label beside the dispenser says that it is a mixture of bran, alfalfa, and molasses — guaranteed to delight any bovine.
Julia holds the treat on the flat of her palm the way the illustration beside the dispenser indicates, and she gives a little gasp when the cow’s raspy tongue moves over her small palm.
It is a good thing I brought my phone because we take picture after picture of the animals, the crafts, and then of flowers and potted plants of every possible description.
Then we reach the carnival part, and my companions are both glad not to be carrying packages. Julia makes a beeline for the merry-go-round.
Instead of the usual horses, the steeds are fantastic creatures: unicorns, dragons, manticores, sphinxes, even a three-headed Cerberus that looks a lot like Ark.
Julia quickly claims the Cerberus, shouting, in a squeaky version of a deep male voice, “I am the guardian of the passage!” She sounds like Shirly Temple in Little Colonel, and I nearly lose it. She is so amazingly cute!
Lee gets into the spirit of Julia’s make-believe, and hops onto a manticore, calling out, “I shall guard the halls.”
Not to be left out, I mount a dragon, intoning, “I shall oversee from the air!” I am tickled to hear the theme fromCabaretasthe carousel starts up, and the animals go up and down in true merry-go-round fashion. It is so incongruous with the fantasy-themed steeds, it could not have been less apropos.
You could get a special prize if you could catch hold of a brass ring as it goes by. None of us catch it, but we have a good time whooping and shouting as we go around, all the same.
Next, Lee wants to ride the Ferris wheel. It isn’t a giant, as these things go, but from the top of it, we can see all of the farmer’s market fair, the village, the beach, and the skyline of the city on one side and the mountains on the other.
Julia rides with us, sandwiched in the middle. That is probably a good thing because at one point she’d undone her safety harness before I could stop her, trying to catch a butterfly that had landed on our car.
Lee catches her. “Don’t scare your dad like that,” she scolds.
“Or Lee,” I add, noting that my mermaid has gone a peculiar pale color under her usual golden tan.
“I’m sorry,” Julia says, “but it was so pretty!”
From the top of the Ferris wheel, Julia catches sight of the bumper cars.
“Look, look!” she exclaims. “There are people in clams, and they’re swimming around like on a beach.”
The shells are bumping against each other. “That does look like fun,” Lee says. “Like soap bubbles bumping against each other.”
So that’s where we go next. The bumper cars are shaped like giant clam shells, and scoot about on a platform that is painted bright blue. The edges of the “shells” are padded withrims of a bouncy rubber or plastic substance. The sign by the ride announced that it was “made completely of recycled substances.”
We buy our tickets and spend a happy thirty minutes or so whizzing around the small arena, bumping into each other, the railings, and occasionally into other people. It is all in good fun, and the cars don’t go fast enough to give anyone whiplash.
“Whee!” Julia screams out.
“Yodele, yodele, yodele–hee, hoo,” Lee shouts out in answer. They’re both so boisterous and loud.
For a moment, I want to shrink down into the bottom of my car. My conservative family would never have condoned making such a scene.
Then, I remember that I’ve not spoken to my family for years because they’d taken exception to Izzy’s exuberant celebration of life at every opportunity. Until she didn’t.
The thought catches at my throat, and all at once I am glad my daughter and my mermaid are able to shout out in a joyous celebration of life. “Yodele, yodele, yodele!” I yodeled back at Lee.
She grins at me, and gently bumps her shell against mine, then zips off to interpose her car between Julia and a boy who is just a little too enthusiastic about bumping. My heart bubbles over with affection and admiration.
This is a totally different type of experience for me. It’s not like my family growing up.
But I think I might like it.
After we stagger off the bumper cars, Lee points upward and says, “Is that a roller coaster? I’ve read about them, but never been on one.”
So, of course, we have to go on the rollercoaster. We strap into open-top cars, using three-point safety harnesses. The attendant comes by and makes sure we are securely strapped in.
