Getting Old; Way Old

Let's take a moment to remember the Spring Breaks of past, particularly 1988, 1989, and 1990 where I spent three consecutive college Spring Break vacations in Daytona Beach. I could excavate my college journals and tell you these stories:
~ exactly which bars I partied at (Anyone remember Daytona's White Hall hotel?)
~ how many boys (and which colleges they were from - Princeton, Clemson come to mind) I made out with
~ I entered a wet T-shirt contest and lost
~ I did my share of skin baring off a balcony to a crowd of onlookers below (somebody on the next balcony has some very imposing photos of me, and I've often wondered where those photos are, and how many people have seen them?)
~ We stayed up all night and watched the sun rise the night before we were to get on a bus to drive the 24 hours back to college
~ How a guy, who I will always love, (Stever-from college-who is another whole blog entry in itself, and of couse, Stever is one I have Googled on many occasion, but have never found) shaved my legs on the back of the bus on the way down to Daytona
~ Hot tub parties with tons of beer (Old Milwaukee or Meisterbrau seemed to be the beer of choice that first Freshman Spring Break--money was tight, and we hadn't perfected our taste buds for fine beer--we were simply going for cheap -- quantity vs. quality in those days.)
~ How I was awarded the name Puker before we even left our college campus to head to Daytona (Was it my fault the bus didn't arrive on time so we girls started drinking early and didn't stop for a full week?)
~ How we would party all night, dance with random boys, hit the beach at 2 a.m., still drinking, crash in our rooms (or elsewhere), wake up the next day and begin drinking before 10 a.m...

Anyway, my point is not to rehash those memories of college; the point I wanted to make here is that I'm on Day Three of Spring Break At Home With My Children, and I am quite possibly more tired, drained, exhausted, running on empty than I was if I had combined those three Spring Breaks into one.

I have a headache worse than the worst Spring Break hangover; it's 7:00 p.m. and I can quite possibly, DEFINITELY go to bed right now and sleep EASILY until 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

I am drained. These kids suck the energy right out of me.

Zoo Day... And, one of the most wonderful things about Blogging and the Internet, and communicating with awesome people I would never have a chance to meet otherwise, I got to spend the day with fellow Chick Lit writer, Memoirist and Blogger Gina and her adorable little boy Aidan. Before we met up, through email, I asked if we should exchange pictures so we'd know how to find one another. And at the zoo, in a line of thousands, because, as I mentioned in a previous post, every mom and their non-spring-breaking-families have the same exact ideas on how to entertain their children, it was pretty crowded. But, the crowds parted ways and Gina and I found each other immediately! Friendship match made in Heaven! We had a great time, especially watching the monkeys...

One in particular, which I will explain now.

Well, there was a monkey in a solo compromising position. Actually, he didn't seem to mind it; in fact, this little monkey guy was really enjoying himself, despite the growing audience.

And yep, my kids noticed right away. Probably because I was cracking up at the sight of this little monkey, well, I guess you could say he was 'spanking his own monkey' for lack of a better phrase. Actually, this phrase is perfect. This little monkey was really enjoying himself, and he was on top of one of the highest limbs, and he was all by himself, waxing it up, if you know what I mean. A quick look around, and all the other monkeys, probably the red-swelled butt monkeys ripe for the takin' had all disappeared into corners, shielding their bright red bottoms from Monkey Man on Top of the Tree. It's not like they can feign a headache, or beg off because it's their time of the month, ya know.

While I could have stayed and watched actual nature in action, and my kids were having a great perverse time watching this monkey 'shine', we decided to hit the road, move onto some G-rated animals. However, we did have an interesting conversation on the car ride home, which I will try to relay to you here:

AJERS: How about that monkey who was rolling his penis.

Me: Yep. (So as not to give too much information, I simply acknowledged his comment.)

AJERS: I wonder if it was male or female?

[WHAT???]

Me: Honey, he had a penis. It was a BOY monkey.

AJERS: Oh. I din't know that it was the same way for animals!

Bwahhhahahahahahahahaahaahah!

I can't wait for the real sex talks. Dear God, help me!