Father's Day is fast
approaching and naturally my thoughts turn to my own father who passed away in
July of 2005. He was on many levels a complicated man and some things I will
never understand, just quietly accept, but I do remember some of the good times
we shared.
One of those good times took place when I was just a young girl. To fully
appreciate what happened this day you should know that my father always took
great pride in his appearance. His clothes were always neatly pressed and
starched, thanks to my mother since I never saw him iron anything. During the
1960's many men still wore a shirt and tie when out with their families, even
for something as mundane as an afternoon stroll at the local zoo.
I remember it was a warm, sunny day, most likely a Sunday afternoon as I was
dressed in my "going to church" clothes and wearing my favorite black
patent leather shoes. (Obviously, my shoe fetish began at an early age.) I was
about five years old, still young enough for my mother to keep a firm grip on
my tiny hand as we wound our way down the serpentine paths, stopping at each
animal cage, I am sure. Yet, I only recall seeing the llamas, and with good
reason!
We stopped at the enclosure holding those mysterious, exotic looking creatures;
my older sister and I stood dutifully on either side of our mother. My father
approached the metal chain link fence, the modern barrier between man and
beast, and one llama slowly ambled over. Delighted, my
sister and I began to pull up some of the grass growing between the cement
walkway and the fence, carefully poking the blades through the fence, giggling
as it gently nibbled it from our chubby, child-like fingers. As the llama ate,
his great, puffy lips pursed comically as it chewed carefully and deliberately.
My father was also a great jokester and so he placed his face as close as he
could up to the fence, directly in line with the llama, and slowly began to
mimic its munching motions. Now remember, I mention my father was a snappy
dresser and today was no exception, which made the scene even more ridiculous.
Here was this handsome, wavy red-haired man, smartly dressed in a white
starched shirt, perfectly knotted tie and sharply creased pants acting the part
of a llama sloppily chewing his treat. Encouraged by our giggling his facial
contortions became more and more exaggerated. He was having such a grand time
entertaining us he didn't notice the llama moving closer to the fence until
they were finally almost nose to nose.
To this day I swear I saw the llama steal a glance over to my sister and I
before he deliberately turned once more to my father, opened his mouth and
forcefully, and very indelicately, spewed all its contents into his face. That
split second scene sent my mother, sister, and me into an immediate wave of
belly laughter, that is until we realized dad wasn't laughing at all! My mother did her best to quiet us down while simultaneously digging into her
purse to find something to wipe his face.
I don't remember anything else from that comical trip to the zoo, but I do
remember that time does heal a broken ego. In later years we were all able to
recount that day with my father and laugh about it together. Those llamas are
long gone but the universe does have a wicked sense of humor. My sister moved a
few years ago and one of her new neighbors raises those feisty animals. Every
time I drive by, I am reminded of the llama that put my father in his place!
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for redirected or broken links. At the time of this posting all links
were in working order. Thank you for understanding.
Karen Chace 2008 ©
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