I am plum tuckered out. Pooped. Spent. Done. We drove 2 1/2 hours west and back today to the Oklahoma Aquarium in a caravan with the homeschool group. We had twenty-five people in all, a loose and happy gaggle of kids from 2 months to 12 years old. We stayed for a good long while, getting to know the otters and eels, beavers and stingrays, sea cucumbers, starfish, anemone, giant crabs, snakes, turtles, seahorses, clownfish, and so many others (but not octopus, much to Fox's disappointment), until finally we all more or less regrouped near the entrance, weary but glad, ready to head home.
The sharks were the most wonderful. Surprisingly, they were enchanting and serene. Not at all terrifying or brutish. And these were no babies; the aquarium boasts the biggest Bull Shark (Bull Shark! The one Jaws was based on!) in captivity. The scariness wore off in ten seconds, then they were just beautiful.
You know what did scare the bejeesus out of me today? Fox.
I had occasion to wonder today, three times, whether or not Fox was actually going to make it out of childhood. Two of those times, when he had put himself in terrible danger (running out into a parking lot, full-tilt, and taking off his carseat buckles as we sped down the highway in Oklahoma in the dark), he blustered that he was immune to death. "I would win a battle against a car," he told me this morning, and "I'm SuperFox, and I don't need buckles," he said this evening.
Careless and reckless, I think, would be easier than this perception of invincibility. This cocky little dude who takes significant calculated risks, he frightens me.