Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 01/10/07
Olivia and Hailey split off in opposite directions from the penguin house ignoring my calls leaving me holding the backpack, the juice bottles and the snack bag. Olivia headed toward the grizzly bear pit and Hailey ran for the Zoo-line railroad crossing. I wasn’t sure who to go after first. Screaming, “Stop! Come back here now!” had no effect on either of them. I chased down Hailey, yanked her off the tracks, dragged her a hundred yards or so, over to the grizzlies and pulled Olivia off the protective fence. “If you two can’t listen to me we are leaving the zoo. Do you understand me? This is your warning, no running away from daddy or it’s bye-bye zoo!”
“Daddy, daddy, the grizzly bears are waking up.” Olivia has mastered diversion. Sure enough the two beastly bears had popped-up from slumber and were tuned into my scolding. There were no people around, yet I still felt a twinge of embarrassment, the two massive grizzlies were watching me, judging my parenting abilities. I saw them roll their eyes, shake their big bear heads in dismissal and snooted amongst themselves.
Rewind about twenty-five minutes: Olivia and Hailey were climbing the perfect for climbing but ‘no climbing’ cliff facade outside the penguin house. What was I doing? “Say pinguino cheese.” Encouraging them, snapping away on the digital camera. I was getting some great shots and that seemed more important at the moment than teaching rules of conduct in public places.
We were practically the only guests at the zoo on an unseasonably warm day and had the penguin exhibit all to ourselves until an unkempt mother of two polished boys sauntered up in a side-by-side. The boys were probably about the same ages as Olivia and Hailey and were strapped tightly into their stroller. I sent the mom a friendly smile, she looked at my girls who were carelessly clambering around infected by some bizarre animal spirit and she sent me back a raised eyebrow. Her little boys contractually started squirming in their seats wanting to join in the fun. Sloppy mom sensed the bestial pandemic and quickly sped off with two displeased boys.
When not scaling the penguin coast, Olivia and Hailey were running up and down the wide entry ramp which wraps around a glacier splash-pool and leads into the Penguin and Puffin Visitor Center. For about twenty minutes they ran unrestrained, up and down the incline, over and over again. Hailey would hug and 
kiss a life sized Humboldt Penguin statue at the bottom of the ramp after every trip. If that statue had feelings, I’m positive it felt violated in some way. At the top of the gentle slope Olivia kept deliberately stepping into sensor range of the automatic entry and when the frosted glass doors slid open she would dingdong-dash back down the glacis. She tested the sensor’s invisible boundary a dozen or so times. Bedeviled by phantom visitors a young pimple-faced zoo keeper bolted out from the interior of the penguin house, he quickly figured out what was going on and shot me a snide ‘this isn’t a public playground’ look. I shrugged my shoulders implying that I wasn’t going to do anything to stop my girls and the lanky attendant went back inside without saying a word.
Back to the bears: We had a good conversation with the massive grizzlies; sounds strange, but maybe they were lonely that day and when I shouted across the pitch, “Hi grizzlies!” both bears lazily raised their heads and sniffed at the air in our direction. I excitedly announced to Olivia and Hailey that they were listening. So I asked the bears, “You guys tired?” and one of them let out a big bear yawn. “You guys bored?” One of them sniffed at us again which kind of looked like a head bob. I asked Olivia and Hailey if they wanted to say something to the grizzlies. Hailey enthusiastically yelled out “Hi grizzies!” and Olivia shyly hid behind me. We watched the grizzlies for several minutes although I’m not sure who was watching who.
At some point during the surreal bear whispering, the big grizzlies made me realize that I have become one of those dads. The kind of dad who nonchalantly lets his kids run amuck acting in a sociably unacceptable manner without any guidance or reprisal for disturbing the peace. Not the unkempt mother, not the young zoo keeper, it was the grizzlies that brought me to understand; I have been enabling my kids to be rule breakers.
