Abby's Birthday (Observed) at Animal Kingdom

Jambo, Internet.

That's African for 'what's up.'  Or not, I forget.  I don't speak African. . . but I did go to Disney's version of it today.

(FYI - it's noticeably cleaner, about 30 degrees cooler, and the stench of urine isn't hanging in the air.)

Jambo, tourists - hope you brought money.

Seeing how we've been packing up crap around the house and otherwise occupying ourselves with the impending Michigan Move, Abby's birthday - which technically falls on May 21st - snuck up on us this year.  With our schedules as chaotic as they are these days, we knew a full-blown birthday party wasn't going to be in the works this year, so Kris and I began to brainstorm.  In lieu of a Chuck E. Cheese or Monkey Joe's fiasco, we decided to have the Voigts get us into one of the Theme Parks, since we haven't done that in a long time.

We parked somewhat close, in the fabulous 'Unicorn' section.

Ideally, we would have rather gone to Disney's Magic Kingdom - which has way more rides aimed at littler kids (at the expense of not serving booze. . . damn it all), but the date we were looking at was blacked out.  After discussing the pros and cons of each park, we decided that Animal Kingdom would be the best substitute.

Check out our beast-centric, super-sweaty day at a theme park, in honor of our daughter's upcoming 5th birthday. . .

Houghs and Voigts, in transit

Front entrance

Once again, the Voigts were able to save us $37 dollars in the rental of a double-stroller (seeing how they have ours now.)

Grape Lady's about to sneak-attack this little Asian kid throwing up gang signs.  All signs point to awesome.

Family pictures aren't as frame-worthy these days. . .

The Cannonball always requests her picture taken in front of this gigantor door panel from the entrance into Africa.

Africa (sans the streams of urine, piles of garbage, stray dogs, and roaming bands of unattended youth.)

We had a strict 'no-shopping' policy with the girls today, so we didn't even get to venture into the African souvenir shops ourselves (our favorite shops at Walt Disney World.)  Our kids have hit that age where they're constantly asking to buy crap, and it's obnoxious as all hell.

Abby and Jack try listening in on a door that, most likely, leads to a janitorial closet.

There were people dining on the other side of this window Alayna's sitting in front of, and generally we'd care about this sort of thing, but. . .  Jesus, by 9:30am we were already sweating.  Sometimes it's just too damn hot out to parent.

Boarding a truck for the African Safari

The Voigt men came with us (Lindsay had to feed Ella, so the ladies had to sit this one out.)

The Birthday (Observed) Girl

No.

During the first leg of the Safari, we didn't see a single animal (besides the previously shown Monsters of Death.)  Even our tour guide thought it was weird.

Eventually, though, after several minutes of creeping along down the dirt road, waiting for animals, we started seeing some herbivores. . .

Gratuitous butt shot.

This may be my all-time favorite African Safari animal photo - I took this with a 300 mm telephoto lens, while everyone else's attention was drawn to giraffes.  What this squirrel is doing with that string?  The world may never know.

Elephants

Alayna - the Queen of Animal Lovers in this family - loves this ride.

White Rhinos - the most racist beasts of the Animal Kingdom.

Lazy Alpha Male (that's how it's done, Internet.)

One time, in Ghana, I saw two warthogs having sex.   No joke.  I have pictures. . . and video.

Don't mind us, animals. . . just stay seated as we drive this huge-ass truck inches from you.

The stroller caravan rumbles on, following the Safari.

Jammin'

We bypassed Asia for the moment and veered to the right in order to head towards Dinoland (which should have been called 'Jurassic Park,' but I think that name may already have been taken.)

The stroller caravan sallies forth.

I don't recall off hand what this giant slide-zone in Dinoland is called ("Dinoslide"?  Who knows.), but we'd end up spending the majority of our day here. . . 'cause little kids are lame.

Five minutes into this place and I'm already funned-out. 

The kids could have spent the majority of their time in Dinoslide (I'm gonna just go ahead and call it that from now on, cool?) playing in this huge gravel pit with plastic shovels and pails. . . 'cause it's not like they can dig in the dirt at home.

Fortunately, for parents, this area was equipped with giant fans and mist machines. . . and lots and lots of shade.  Kris enjoyed this thoroughly.

Making a mess with Jack.

After some time, we were able to tear the kids away from their digging in order to hit the slides one last time before we hit up a place to eat.

The Voigts ended up having to take off (it was pushing Jack's nap time, and he's at the age where that's something you do NOT want to miss), so we bid farewell to our patrons and went off in search of an over-priced lunch (pretty easy to find in a Disney theme park, believe it or not.)

The tried and true.

We spent nearly $50 on a couple cheese pizzas and salads. . . which, honestly, we should have seen coming.

Safari Amber (a glorified Amber Bock) - my Animal Kingdom sidearm.

After our culinary pit-stop, we let the girls return to Dinoslide for another round of slides, running about, and nearly-losing-our-children.

Abby made a friend.  Kids are weird like that.

Having a blast.

An hour or so later, with the kids' energy wearing paper-thin, we decided to tempt fate and drag them through one, last area of the park - Asia.

Some junk(s)

This kid loves Sprite (it was so hot out, I was tempted myself.)

Abby was in one hell of a funk today - here's yet another one of her exhaustion freak-outs Kris had to wrestle with. 

The thoroughfare surrounding the water rides in Asia were packed with sweaty, smelly tourists all trying to cool off.  You can see how much Kris is having waiting for people to clear the way for her double-wide stroller (she really needed a cow-catcher on the front of this beast.)

Who wants to trek through jungle under the hot, Florida sun with two, miserable, whiny children?  The HOUGHS.

Lizards.  Kinda boring.

Tiger sanctuary (sans tigers.)

Kris and I were down for looking at animals. . . but the girls just wanted to sit in the stroller and complain.  The Doomsday Clock was ticking. . .

Shortly after leaving the Tiger area, the girls - sweating bullets and gnashing teeth - staged a mutiny and demanded to return home.  An army of doe-eyed, bright pink kittens and puppies couldn't have deterred them.  They were done.

We stopped off at this random exhibit on the way out, to get them out of the stroller for a second (Alayna was compliant, but Abby refused to move.)

Coincidentally - and completely un-posed - I happened to capture Kris sitting in the exact same window, from nearly the same vantage point.  Nine years and a couple kids later.

After today, I can truly appreciate what this homeboy's going through. . .

The monkey on the left was kickin' ass all over the place, but we couldn't even convince the kids to stop so we could check it out.  I was pissed I didn't fill my Monkey Quota for the day.

I think Sitar Guy wants to kick the bald dude in the front row's ass.  Kinda wish I would have stuck around to see what happened, but we were in the process of running that double-stroller towards the front entrance of the park.

One last time crossing the bridge.

Water break.

Happy Birthday (Observed), Abby. . . you ungrateful, no-good, son-of-a--

- Brian