“This Zoo Keeper New Keeper Charlie’s quite keen!”

Clouds are in the sky right now. Wispy ones. Like the fake spiderwebs draped over coach lights on front porches for Halloween. My family never really celebrated the holiday. We never decorated for it. It would have been like inviting the Devil to our house.

It was Charlie's big day today. He hadn't pooped for a whole day. And it's not as if he didn't eat anything. He had eaten. Yesterday, when we were at the zoo he ate a few handfuls of those goldfish crackers while I wheeled him around. I feel like a snack cart sometimes. After our naps, I reheated a plate of macaroni and cheese. On the side I cut and laid a few juicy slices of pink watermelon. Yes, I take naps too. I'm pretty good about relegating them to when he is asleep. I have fallen asleep a few times mid-play on the floor. It's usually only for a minute.

More clouds are moving in now. Purple clouds. And blue too. I can't ride the carousel anymore with Charlie. I used to be able to be on machinery that spun me around and around. I like the music on the carousel. I don't know the name of the song. It's probably something like 'Carousel March'. The pipe organ is whimsical. I let Charlie choose the beast he would ride. We passed the hand carved, brightly painted and lacquered animals. A black jaguar, an aloof ostrich, a pair of chunky Asian elephants, a giraffe, a happy seal, lions standing like sentries, a flamingo.

"Which animal do you want to ride?" I asked him.

"Hor-see." He said.

The carousel was absent of horses. I found a zebra and put him on it. I thought he was pretty disinterested in the whole affair. He mainly likes to run away from me and see if I will chase after him. He enjoys that game. I mostly don't. So I thought he felt trapped up on the striped horse. The ride attendant spoke over the microphone in a muffled monotone for eighty-sixth time that morning. I got the impression she was thinking about her next break. Her enthusiasm was mechanical. It was Charlie's first carousel ride. The music slowly started piping as the ride began turning. It was as if there was a large drum, as in a music box, spinning inside the center column. The notes came faster as we gained speed. Charlie grabbed onto the tarnished brass pole coming out of the zebra's neck. I held on to his waist. The camshaft, or whatever it's called, began to lift the zebra and Charlie. Then it brought him back down. I could see the wonderment in his eyes along with the reflection of the hundreds of yellow bulb lights. I just watched him as his flat expression turned golden and mouth opened to a smile. I remembered that butterfly feeling when the camshaft drops you back down and you slice through the air, bobbing and slicing, laughing and learning. The old twisted cottonwood trees dusted the air with millions of airy specs of white; snow which doesn't melt.

I will never forget the way he looked at me next. It was as if he had looked at all there was to look at, drank it all in with his eyes, consumed it with his ears, felt it by the rising and falling, the wind, the vibrations of the recorded pipe organ through the metal and the brass, the lights, tasted the newness. And once he had his fill, when I began to think he had forgotten I was there, he turned and looked into my eyes as if to share it all with me. That felt good. That was all I needed. The hassle of getting everything ready for the zoo, packing the diaper bag, packing a couple of spare diapers, tracking down a bottle of sunscreen, making two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, filling a bottle of milk for the ride home and not forgetting his blue blanket, 'silky' that he can barely sleep without, stuffing some extra snacks in the bag just in case, filling a sippy cup with water, his throwing a tantrum while filling the sippy cup with water, getting his hat, collapsing and tossing his stroller in the back of the pickup, driving the half hour with him in the back seat saying 'zoo' at every stoplight. It was all worth that one moment when I knew he loved me.