"I scared, Mama."

This weekend, we went to the zoo.  That's a fairly frequent occurrence for us.  The zoo has animals, which Emmy loves, and it provides an opportunity for exercise, and it isn't nearly as muddy as our backyard (which is a whole different topic).

This, however, was the first time we were able to try out the new dinosaur exhibit.  We were pretty excited about this.  Emmy knows about dinosaurs, from books and TV.  She knows they say "rawr," and she seemed interested in seeing them.

So, we bought our tickets for the "Dinosaur Trek," and got in line.  Emmy was sitting in her red wagon, and we pulled up to the first dinosaur and stopped to let her look.

"See the dinosaur, Emmy?"

"Emmy, look at the dinosaur.  What does the dinosaur say?"

And right about that moment, the dinosaur (I don't remember what it was called) spit water right in Emmy's face.  I imagine it is supposed to hit around people's waists, or maybe the chest, but poor Emmy in the wagon got it in the head.  She squealed and started crying.  

I grabbed her out of the wagon and lifted her up and turned away from the offending dinosaur, Emmy clutching my shirt with both legs and fingers for dear life.  And I turned right into the second spitting dinosaur, which got both of us.

We moved away from that one, and Emmy told me, "I not like it, Mommy."

"But Emmy, you like dinosaurs."

"I scared."

Emmy clutched my shirt for the rest of the Dino trek.  The animatronic dinosaurs terrified her.  The only ones she did like were the tiny duck-billed ones coming out of their eggs.  She didn't like the mother, though.

We walked through as fast as we could, but the walkway was fairly narrow, and we often had to wait for the kids in front of us to get done oohing and aahhing at the "awesome" dinosaurs.  Which meant that we could hear all the dinosaurs, even if we couldn't see them.

We finally got to the end, where the largest dinosaur, the T-Rex, was waiting.  I tried to shield Emmy's eyes, as I darted by, but she wouldn't let me, and just as we passed by, it roared.

On the way out, we got our hands stamped, so we could re-enter.  The lady asked us, "Would you guys like to go back in?" as she held out the stamp.

I laughed, mirthlessly.  "No," I said, gesturing to the barnacle-child still clutching my chest. "But, Thank you."

Later, Tom asked her what she thought of the dinosaurs.  She whimpered and said, "I scared, Daddy."

Tom said, "You don't have to be scared, Emmy.  Daddy's here."

So, she patted him on the back and said, "Don't worry, Daddy."