Yesterday, I felt I could have written a novel based only on my trip to the zoo. That's how strongly I felt about the experience.
But time has a way of clearing your thoughts.
For instance — it is not worth five chapters that I no longer possess any sense of direction from my months of not driving. This is my cross to bear and not really a terrible one, since I no longer drive and getting lost is usually not a problem. It is a little irritating that I don't know which freeway I live near, but this is neither here nor there.
Now, going to a zoo out of town and paying $10, even though if I had waited, as my husband suggested we would have come upon a "free" day and had $10 left for lunch, or cheap giraffe cups or gas, is not enough of a figurative example of a character's shortcomings for a novel to stand. A short story? Maybe.
Last, Penelope pooping in the final minutes of our trip, having no wipes and only a diaper I had used to clean something dusty really has no place in great literature. I'm not even sure why I wrote it here.
Otherwise, the trip was very pleasant. Wild felines have this thing for Carolyn. Everyone remembers the cheetah (if not, I'll post a new link to YouTube because I have no new pictures because I'm very, very lazy... see character's shortcomings above), but yesterday, a tiger who was basically sleeping woke up just to walk back and forth in front of Carolyn.
She must look like a tasty morsel.
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