In October of 2009, my sister Mary and I were having a grand time running around Seattle, exploring Pike Place Market and occasionally fawning over a life-size cut-out of the President. Our tourism led us to the big splurge trip of the day, the Seattle Aquarium.
After oohing and aahing over moon jellies, observing a Pacific Octopus eating a fish, and learning about the ecosystem of Puget Sound, we found ourselves in an outdoor area with aquariums displaying marine mammals. We walked up to the largest of these, which contained a fur seal as long as I am tall, floating on his side with his flippers folded up on top. A kid, probably five or six, stood next to us and pressed his face against the glass.
As Mary and I contemplated the beauty and size of this incredible creature, its whiskers twitched, it sighed and shuffled, and then it took the “thumb” of its flipper and began scratching its rear end with fervor. Immaturity threatened to make me giggle, but I maintained a straight face in observing normal animal behavior, and Mary did the same.
The kid leaped back from the glass, his eyes wide, his face glowing with delight. “Mom!” he shouted over his shoulder in between an eruption of giggles. “The seal is scratching its butt!”
Mary and I paused, then looked at each other. We both started laughing so hard I thought I was going to cry. You can get old, you can become mature, but there are some kinds of humor you can never outgrow.
|My partner in goofy humor. She went back to California and I miss her already…|