After a good old fashioned Florida thunderstorm, the temperature outside had cooled to an almost bearable degree.
I decided to take the boys out on the golf cart path and burn through the remainder of their boy energy. My dad joined us and we were off.
My parents' neighborhood is so far West, they basically live in the Everglades. There is such an amazing array of wildlife that a simple walk can turn into an adventure.
This evening, we encountered not one, but two alligators on our walk.
The first one wasn't very big, but I'd recognize those creepy eyes anywhere. As a University of Florida alumni, I learned to be very alert on campus. Forget about the drunk fraternity boys, it was one of these suckers you really had to worry about. You never knew when a hungry gator would come ashore and attempt to eat your Birkenstock-clad foot for lunch. I'm talking to you, Lake Alice.
I kept my distance. My dad, on the other hand, gave zero f*cks. He walked right down to the water's edge, while I took my offspring and safely climbed up a nearby palm tree.
As we continued on, we encountered a much larger lake with some cool birds. The birds here are big. Not like swoop down and eat your dog big, but like starting center for the Miami Heat big. They have legs that rival mine. They are quite beautiful.
And it was then that I spotted the second alligator. My dad doubted my latest find. He thought it was some floating plant. But again, those creepy eyes. Just breaking the water plane to keep an eye on his next meal while the remainder of his prehistoric body remains submerged.
And this thing was big. I could tell by his snout. He would gladly eat all of us for dinner. My dad walked closer to the lake.
ARE YOU SURE THAT'S A GATOR?
Um, yes. And, again, I began to make my way cautiously away from the lake.
The pictured bird flew off and just then the gator, that my dad wasn't so sure was a gator, gave a good thrashing and repositioned his eyes on us.
We screamed in unison and sprinted off, while laughing like fools.
My dad and I ran straight.
But my kids, they ran zig zag.
You see, in the early 80s, I spent a few years in the Brownies, the pre-cursor to the Girl Scouts. I learned a few songs, how to eat a sh*t ton of thin mints and not get ill, and most importantly, if I was ever being chased by an alligator, because this is the kind of stuff you learn in Glades Troop 101, you are supposed to run in a zig zag pattern because while alligators are fast, they have a terrible turning radius.
In passing, I must have told the Yoys this. And they remembered. So as I'm running away (in the incorrect way), I'm watching my kids scatter onto the golf course yelling ZIG! ZAG! ZIG! ZAG! at the top of their lungs while they actually zigged and zagged.
It was perfect. And the alligator ate none of us for dinner.
The only type of alligator I want chewing on my kids. Albert.
Popular posts from this blog
I bet you didn't expect to hear from me... At 8:45AM this morning, I had a very worried child wake me up. He was ultra concerned that we were not yet up. How were we going to stick to the schedule I had printed out? The schedule I printed out in attempt to convince myself that this homeschooling/quarantine would not be the dumpster fire, that deep down, I knew it would be. I don't normally sleep this late, I promise. But Mr. Yoy and I were up extra late last night, finishing off the Hunters. I fell asleep around 2AM. I checked my phone and I had a very special message from a very special lady requesting I resuscitate the Mrs. Yoy blog, at least for the time that we are locked in, as she needed some laughs. So here I am. It's a little after 6:30PM. No one in my house has died and I feel like I need some praise and validation. The morning wasn't so zen. 9AM was P.E. time per Little E and his militant schedule, so we went out for a walk/bike ride. We came back
Day 65. I first want to say Happy Birthday to my best friend who would have been 44 today. I found a funny email exchange we had with each other back when we both first had our babies and had zero clue as to what we were doing. DOES THIS THING COME WITH AN OWNER'S MANUAL? The buildup has been immense, but this was the actual last day of school here in Cobb. Big E had his final Zoom call with his class. His teacher put together a video of them with baby pictures mixed in with their current pictures and I stood over Big E's shoulder and watched and silently cried. I left to grab a tissue and returned to watch the whole 5th grade video with photos of them starting as babies in Kindergarten and now as 5th graders. Again, I stood over Big E's shoulder and silently cried. He turned to look at me. I tried to play it cool. YOU CAN LEAVE NOW. Normally that would have hurt my feelings, but I'm so raw from everything, that I just numbly walked away to clean up
I opened my eyes and had a moment that I thought I had overslept. That one second of panic that pumps your adrenaline so hard, you could flip a car. The sunlight that was beginning to creep into our bedroom had fooled me. Moments later, Little E, the schedule sergeant, bounded in to inform me we had to get up and go on our morning walk. Today I was a little more enthusiastic as I craved the fresh air. I threw on my quarantine uniform, leggings and a sweatshirt and met Little E in the hall. He had put on his full camouflage outfit, vest and sweatpants, and I had put on my camouflage sweatshirt. We perfectly coordinated, but didn't match, like early 2000s Destiny's child, but without the singing talent. We are the Jewish Duck Dynasty After our walk, the teachers' emails came flooding in with their real assignments. Phew. Tangible work. I was getting worried that I'd have two homeschool dropouts. I set them up at the kitchen island to work and that las