Roadtripping to Des Moines Part 2: This Town is Ready for a Political Candidate, a Zombie Apocalypse or Both

Just so you know, there's more to Des Moines than covered bridges and shearing sheep. Like this, for example...

Yes, politicians will pause for an interview with CNN in the middle of an Iowa cornfield. I give Iowans a lot of credit for not letting it go to their heads.

But also, the Downtown Farmer's Market, where you can eat your way through, starting with a gooner at 9 AM and ending with a papusa and a train ride.

Oh...What is a gooner, you ask? It is like a crab rangoon, filled with sweet and savory options. You can get 4 for $5 and that's 2 more than you can really eat all by yourself, especially if you want to save room for the gourmet doughnut booth on your way back through.

But about that barrel train ride...

I think it was about $2 and around and around he went for several minutes. It's the perfect kid-friendly activity for parents who just want to eat their gooners in peace.

Plus, there are other things to see at the Saturday market...

like the World's Furriest Hawkeye fan. I'm pretty sure if I started drinking at the beginning of a football game, I would think this was Sean Connery by the 4th quarter.

Also, belly dancers because...why not?

And all manner of unique, handcrafted goodies at every turn. I bought a pair of mitten gloves from the very hands that knitted them.

If you happen to be visiting Des Moines in the fall, you can also have your pick of fall festivals hosted by the local farms. They usually include a petting area, apple cider doughnuts, train rides, sliding down a half-pipe on a potato sack, bounce pillows...

and, of course, the infamous corn pool.

To be honest, I couldn't remember which farm we visited so I thought I would just Google "Des Moines farm festival corn pool" and get my answer. But, no. As it turns out, there is more than one farm offering a pool o' corn for kids to stomp and swim in freely for the entire month of October. But getcha some of this. It's entirely worth the bra full of corn you'll have to dump out that night. And it's significantly better than that one time in Kansas when I dumped all of Blue's sand out of his sand table, bought a 20 pound bag of feed corn at the farm and tractor store and dumped that in his sand table. The squirrels loved us and the neighbors had corn stuck in their tires for weeks.

If the fall festival is worth two cents, it will have other activities, like the Flying Houndz Frizbee Trick Dog Show, where pups leap and twirl to the oohs and ahhs of folks like us.

And the racing pigs. There's always racing pigs. I don't know why this entertains me so.

When your belly is full of apple slushie and freshly baked pumpkin bread, head back over to the covered bridges to check out what you missed last time.

Maybe stop to do a handstand

and pick up some astroturf flip-flops.

Then swing by Zombie Burger + Shake Lab (don't worry, they have multiple locations in Des Moines but we hit up the one downtown) and grab the Trailer Trash Zombie burger with a Chocolate Nutella Marshmallow shake on the side. Make it boozy for a little extra.

Bonus points if you can manage to not look like a tourist in here. I failed miserably.

If, after all of this, you are down for a little more adventure, drive 3 hours northeast to Dyersville, Iowa...otherwise known as The Home of The Field of Dreams. We actually drove like six hours from Kansas to Dyersville and then swung through Des Moines on our way home. When we left Kansas City, it was a balmy spring day in May, with temperatures reaching in the mid-70's. But someone forgot to tell Dyersville that winter was over. It was freaking freezing. And we were utterly unprepared. We stopped at the Target in Dyersville and I bought a scarf while Shana found the very last rain coat in the store because they had already made room for the bikinis and floppy hats. I promised Blue I would wrap him in the picnic blanket from the trunk. We drove with the heat on and then leaped out to see the baseball field surrounded by, naturally, rows and rows of corn.

How can you spot 2 city girls at the Field of Dreams baseball field? They are looking for corn. In May. And this is how we came to learn the snappy farmer's rhyme: knee-high by July. There is no rhyme about May.

Do we look cold? We took one selfie as Blue ran in the opposite direction in total defiance. He is not up for our shenanigans on a good day, never mind when he's getting chapped by the wind while we take a thousand pictures of a house and a corn-less field. Apparently, even if you don't grow it, they will still come.

But I loved the movie and we enjoyed the 20 minutes we spent wandering the grounds. Next time, though, we'll plan our trip around a Ghost Sunday baseball game. I'll gladly pay my $90 to reserve a seat on the swing on the front porch of the farmhouse, just as Ray would want us to.

This is all we could squeeze into 48 hours in Des Moines, but rest assured my DSM bucket list grows by the day. In addition to touring Fort Des Moines, I would also like to swing through in February for the Blue Ribbon Bacon Festival, stop back by Fong's Pizza (yes, the crab rangoon pizza is everything you think it is) and play a few games at Up-Down, an arcade featuring our favorite video games from the 80's and 90's (I could hold my own with some Mario Brothers).

We had a blast living in the Midwest and would have no qualms about retiring there...if it weren't so far away from an ocean in every single direction. But Midwesterners are some of my favorite people, ever. They are hard-working, honest, generous and kind. They take pride and joy in their homes and towns, which shines through in everything they do. I'm looking forward to the next time I get to land in this "fly-over" state!

Roadtripping to Des Moines: Part 1 - We'll Cross That Bridge When We Get to It

I can't remember how I came to have a copy of The Bridges of Madison County in my hands, but I think it may have had something to do with the women in my family. Most likely, one of them read it and the copy got passed around until it was my turn. I zipped through it in about a week, relishing every steamy, forbidden love scene. Yes, her husband and children were away at the State Fair with their prize pigs or whatever when the main character fell in love (into bed) with a National Geographic photographer who just happened to be passing through. And no, now that I'm married with a kid I probably wouldn't read more than 3 pages of a book where the wife cheats on the husband. But I read this book when I was in high school and, oh lawsy, it set the fires a-burnin'.

And then the movie came out.

And then they cast Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep as the two star-crossed lovers and all of us who grew up thinking they were old when we were babies just rolled our eyes and gagged a little. Really? Matt Damon wasn't available? What about Tom Cruise? Truly, I would have even settled for Keanu Reeves. And what about Francesca? The most popular actresses in 1995 included Nicole Kidman, Elisabeth Shue and Mira Sorvino. I would have chosen any of them over Meryl Streep. Well, maybe not Mira Sorvino. She has a weird face that makes her look like she just stabbed either your gerbil or your grandmother...a little hard to tell which.

My point is, I had just finished my junior year of high school when the movie premiered and I was completely grossed out by 2 very old people chasing each other around the kitchen while trying to get naked. I gave up halfway through and went back to watching While You Were Sleeping.

But...I have always loved the actual bridges of Madison County...which are, as a matter of fact, in Iowa. Most of them dot the landscape around Winterset, Iowa and are so close together that if you visit the area during the Bridges of Madison County Festival in October, you can board a Winterset school bus that will take you to several of them.

And that is exactly what Blue and I did. We drove from Fort Leavenworth, KS to Des Moines, IA just to attend this festival and walk the bridges where Francesca and Robert flirted and fell in love. (Although in my head, Francesca is played by Sandra Bullock and Robert is played by Robert Downey, Jr.) And we visited with our friend, Holly, an Iowan who loves random adventures as much as we do...especially when it involves a school bus full of people who are at least 30 years older than any of us.

But before we could go here, we had to get on the bus...

Holly is kind of a creeper. She's like Mira Sorvino in that way. Actually, she photobombed our picture and I said, "You better be careful. You'll end up on my blog." Three years later...

So, we got on the bus with a lot of people who probably thought Clint Eastwood was perfectly cast as a sex symbol (which is going to be me someday when I talk about how profoundly hot Patrick Swayze was in Dirty Dancing) and rode out to our first stop, Roseman Bridge.

For the record, Blue was 3 years old when we did this and was completely bored by touring covered bridges. But I promised him ice cream at the end so he wasn't a total nightmare. He still refused to smile or even look at the camera, though.

I spent a lot of time checking him for ticks.

Someone just couldn't resist jotting down a lyric from The Bridges of Madison County, the Musical on the inside of the bridge. Don't let them near the Titanic exhibit. They'll be scribbling "I'll never let go, Jack" across a glass case before you can call security.

It's like a painting. The red bridge contrasting with the green landscape and the blue sky...this is God's country.

I would have renamed that road, too. Why not cash in on some of the fame? Iowa was due.

The bus then brought us to North River Schoolhouse, a one-room school built in 1874. It is on the National Register of Historic Places and has been impeccably maintained. There was even some sand to keep Blue entertained while we listened to the guide.

We saw Cedar Bridge from the bus, but it's accessible through Cedar Bridge Park.

One more drive-by. There isn't enough time on the tour to get out and walk through each bridge, but you can always come back - which is exactly what I did 7 months later.

When we returned to Winterset, there were food trucks and arts & crafts waiting for us in the town square. We stopped to watch a farmer shear his sheep (which is a much rougher affair than I was expecting but the sheep didn't seem to mind).

And a place to sit and ponder how much you would love to own this place where you are sitting.

There is even a mini covered bridge where you can get a selfie (or a normal picture where you actually ask some random person to hold your phone and try not to crop anyone's head off).

By the way, if you don't understand my shirt, you and Neal will have something to talk about. He didn't get it, either. Meanwhile, Holly and I were laughing to the point of making a scene while we looked for my size at RAYGUN.

As we ate our street food on the lawn of the square and listened to live music, we decided this was well worth the price of admission. The bridges of Madison County are charming. I can see why someone wrote a book about them. And it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility to spot a photographer from National Geographic, wading through the creeks with his camera over his head, trying to capture all of this simple beauty in just one frame. The bridges are a treasure, tucked away in the outskirts of Des Moines and waiting for you to cross them, whether you are with a Robert, a Francesca or a good friend and your toddler.

Saving Fort Des Moines

A couple of weeks ago, Neal and I had the honor of meeting and shaking hands with 2 Tuskegee Airmen, one is 93 years old and the other is 95. With each passing year, our opportunities to meet any Servicemembers from World War II are dwindling significantly. These days, we are lucky to meet their children. As our parents pass on, we are left to tell our grandparents' stories, if we can remember them. But their service, their sacrifices are important and their memories should be shared, one way or another. Our visit with the Airmen was far too brief. I wanted to have them over for dinner; cook lasagna and let them talk until we all nod off over our desert plates. I wanted to hear about how the world has changed, how it is remarkably still the same, what changed their lives and what they hope for the future.

To hear the stories of previous generations, we must often turn to books and museums with curated collections that give the memories shape and context. My favorite Civil War museum is Pamplin Historical Park in Petersburg, Virginia. It is a privately owned museum that has always made Civil War history accessible and interesting. Visitors must engage with exhibits and that leaves an indelible mark on even the most apathetic guest. My initial thought was, "I wish the people who work here had been my high school history teachers."

Indeed, Jeff Kluever, the former Education Supervisor of Pamplin Historical Park, would make an excellent high school history teacher. But he has set his sights on something equally as important: saving Fort Des Moines, an Army training facility on the south side of Des Moines, Iowa. I've known Jeff and his wife, Holly, since we were stationed at Fort Lee in 2013. We would sometimes spend Friday evenings huddled around a bucket of chicken wings with a side of mambo sauce and laugh at all of the nerdy, historical tours we've taken over the years. So, it was no surprise that Jeff found significance in this struggling landmark. But as he began to share its stories with me, I was also overcome with a sense of obligation to the men and women who made Fort Des Moines a notable chapter in history. I don't know if Jeff, who now serves on the Fort Des Moines board of directors, will be able to spark enough interest to save this national treasure, but y'know what? We have to try. So, he came to me and said, "Can you help me get the word out?" Absolutely. Truly, it's the least I can do.

M&M: What makes Fort Des Moines historically significant?
Jeff: The fort is important because it is the site of the first Officer Candidate School for African-American men in United States Army history. The  first (and only) cadet class of 1917 graduated 639 men as commissioned officers to serve in World War I and included college graduates, non-commissioned officers, 9th and 10th cavalry "Buffalo Soldiers" and men from the 24th and 25th infantry. Several cadets were already established leaders in the black community. By 1911, Elder Watson Diggs had co-founded Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity while Frank Coleman and Edgar Love had co-founded Omega Psi Phi Fraternity. 

Other cadets reached notoriety after graduation. Samuel Joe Brown, Charles Howard and James Morris went on to found the Iowa Negro Bar Association (now the National Bar Association) in 1925. Charles Hamilton Houston became a lawyer and argued 8 cases in front of the Supreme Court, winning 7 of them. He mentored Thurgood Marshall and played a significant role in dismantling the Jim Crow laws, which earned him the moniker, "The Man Who Killed Jim Crow".

Courtesy of The Library of Congress 

 The African-American Cadet Class of 1917

The women's legacy is less represented by individuals, but seen more in the rapidity (relatively speaking) of the incorporation of women into the Army.  The first women recruits arrived at Fort Des Moines on July 20, 1942. They trained there as WAACs (Women's Auxiliary Army Corp), but became WACs (Women's Army Corps) when President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed legislation which integrated women into the U.S. Army in 1943. That's a pretty fast transition, especially for the military. 

 Courtesy of The Library of Congress

WAACs, answering the call to assembly, Fort Des Moines, 1942

 Courtesy of The Library of Congress

Auxiliary Doris Johnson, of Leipic, Ohio, is shown washing down a jeep, which was considered "heavier work", Fort Des Moines, 1942

Courtesy of The Library of Congress

WAAC officer candidates, studying Organization of the Army in the classroom after their march drill, Fort Des Moines, 1942

Courtesy of The Library of Congress

The first graduating class of WAACs at Fort Des Moines, 1942

The stories of these men and women are pretty remarkable.  Obviously, both groups faced significant discrimination.  Both groups were used mostly for manual work/clerical work, though a few African-American regiments saw combat in World War I.

M&M: How and why did you get involved with Fort Des Moines? 

Jeff : My involvement in the museum began in November 2017, when I read a newspaper article about the financial struggles facing the museum.  I thought, given my previous museum experience, that I might be able to help - despite the fact that I can't write really big checks.  I was elected to the board in December and have been working since that time to establish a foothold so that we can create a strategic plan that enables the museum to be financially sustainable.  What's remarkable is that the museum, the collection and the exhibits are in really good shape.  We have deferred maintenance that needs to be addressed, but we could open tomorrow and have a decent display.  What we lack are financial resources.  The board is trying to piece together enough funding to give ourselves the breathing room we need to pursue grant funding, sponsorships/partnerships, etc., but to this point we are expending all of our energy on paying the utility and insurance bills.

I suppose the biggest reason I got involved is that this is a story that needs to be told, and I'm afraid that if we close our doors there won't be anyone telling those stories.  The stories of these men and women are not only meaningful in a historical sense, but relevant to conversations we are still addressing today.

Courtesy of Ullery Smith, graphic designer for Fort Des Moines

Saving Fort Des Moines is a daunting project. Jeff and the rest of the board of directors must rebound from years of financial struggles, even though enough money was raised in 2004 to renovate a former bachelor's barracks and add informational displays. The president of the board of directors complained to the Iowa Register last November that the community either doesn't care or has forgotten about the significance of Fort Des Moines. 

What I find most ironic is that the very reason Fort Des Moines was chosen to host its first and only class of African-American commissioned officers could be the precise cause of its financial distress: it is in the middle of "nowhere". The government, assuming the cadets would fail, wanted them as far from the east coast media as possible. Fort Des Moines, at that point, was an abandoned cavalry base and available for use and it was far, far away. While many fine people live in and around Des Moines, it is not a tourist destination. Even though Fort Des Moines has been designated as a National Historic Landmark, it does not receive the steady flow of cash that other National Historic Landmarks such as Hoover Dam, Alcatraz and the USS Arizona do every summer. We don't vacation in Des Moines (although I've been there and everyone should visit) and the fort falls into further disrepair.

Since December, though, the board of directors has worked to create a strategic plan for the museum and has started to look for grants and other funding opportunities, even though they don't qualify for some because of the museum's current financial situation. But Fort Des Moines remains open, with 100% volunteer support, every Saturday during the summer. On November 3, the museum will host a Passing of the Colors event. You can keep up with Fort Des Moines on its Facebook page and take a peek inside the museum with this Youtube video.

So, I know my readers and I know you are asking yourself right now: What can we do to help? First and foremost (and perhaps most obvious) is to give. Jeff has set up a Go Fund Me account here and has set a goal of $50,000. We can also share this story on social media. You never know who it might reach...a news outlet, a wealthy donor, a thousand someones who know a thousand more someones. And lastly, we can visit our local National Historic Landmarks and Heritage Sites, which have earned that distinction from the National Parks Service. They are not always the sexiest or most Instagrammable places to visit, but they are recognized as historically significant and worthy of our time and dollars. 

Any time you see an African-American or female Servicemember, remember that Fort Des Moines helped pave the way for their service. Supporting Fort Des Moines is a way of saying thank you to those who have sacrificed for this country.

The Year of Living More With Less: a SoCal Update

Sometimes I feel like the universe hears my warrior cries of promised self-improvement and says, "Oh yeah? Hold my beer."

Southern California is making it really hard to adhere to The Year of Living More With Less.

Mostly because everything out here is all about more. More things to do, more foods to try, more blogs on Pinterest dedicated to L.A. photo op bucket lists, more hidden spots to check out, more exotic places to be seen. And it has been really hard to ignore all of that. In the first month we were here, we visited the Hollywood sign (twice), went to 3 beaches in Laguna, visited the Channel Islands, attended a red carpet premiere, ate our way through Hollywood (including one cupcake from an ATM) and bought a bracelet from the wardrobe department at Days of Our Lives. And really, that is only the beginning. To be fair, we've been entertaining company for a lot of that, but some if it was just us wanting to do all. the. things. And that doesn't even include the Blue Star Museums that are free to us until Labor Day: The Velveteria (yes, it is an entire museum devoted to velvet paintings), the Western Museum of Flight, the Automobile Museum (which features life-size Hot Wheels cars on display a few times throughout the year).

Don't even get me started on the grocery stores. Do I go to Albertson's, Von's, Sprout's, Ralph's, Whole Foods or the butcher across the street? It's not a question of which one is closest. They are all 2 miles from each other. There is a farmer's market every day of the week and one farm down in Irvine that delivers fresh produce to the area once a week.

In fact, the only thing I have to drive any great distance for is a church, which sort of seems fitting. It's in Downey, about 45 minutes from here. It's not that there aren't churches here. There are. There are Baptist churches on the beach and Buddhist temples in downtown L.A. But to find the Moravians (which have merged with the Episcopalians) we have to drive.

There are more people (the only people I've seen more than once are the families in our neighborhood), more cars, more options for things to do, places to go and things to see than we've ever had. Ever.

Right smack dab in the middle of The Year of Living More With Less.

What's that sound? Oh it's the universe laughing its ass off. Well-played.

But what's the point of doing a challenge if you aren't...challenged? So, here we are: having the Come to Jesus that I never saw coming but desperately need. Where is the less in all of this?

I went back to Seventh Generation clothing and dishwasher detergent because the water here is so frickin hard. The thrift stores are hard to resist, not because something may have been worn by Catherine Zeta-Jones but because it's the only stuff that's reasonably priced. And how do I say "no" to an entire museum filled with velvet paintings? I just spent an hour spray painting Cadillacs in the desert not 2 months ago; you know resistance is futile.

So, now I have some soul searching to do. I have to get my book and my highlighter back out and start all over again. Not from the quiet, uncomplicated fields of the Keystone state, but from a place where the sun always shines and the bucket list overflows. I could absolutely keep going at this pace, but should I? Is it healthy? Does it allow for time to reflect? Is it shortening my attention span? Is it feeding my need for more? What does it teach our son?

I know that when Blue starts back to school in a few weeks some things will change. I will be hindered by a drop-off/pick-up schedule. You can't spend the entire day hiking Runyon Canyon and expect to be back by the end of school. And I will start my volunteer work with the International Bird Rescue, as well as in Blue's school. Plus I'll be back at my desk creating jewelry. So, all of that will keep me from running the roads. Maybe this is how summer is supposed to be. Mach 10 on the 405 with the wind in our hair and gelato smeared on our faces. Or maybe I'm making excuses because the idea of leaving here without checking everything off the list is what keeps me up at night.

But there will always be one more thing. One more live taping to see. One more taco truck to try. One more pop-up boutique. One more graffiti art walk. One more photo to take. One more distraction from the goal at hand. I can live more with less. I can do this. I can.

In Defense of Nature

On Monday, I committed a cardinal California sin.

I allowed Blue to keep a lizard in captivity, inside of a plastic bin with flowers, grass, fresh water and the lid wide open, for 8 hours. Actually, when we arrived home from Vacation Bible School, the lizard had blown that popsicle stand so it may have been closer to 5 hours. It is not a lizard on the endangered list. In fact, some other kid had already "tagged" this particular lizard with blue marker on his belly and throat. I did not let Blue color his lizard. He examined his body, made notes about distinguishing features, examined how it moved about the enclosure and was extremely gentle when handling it.

Yet, when I asked on our local Facebook page if anyone had a wardrobe box leftover from a move, one that I could have to cut up and use as a home for this lizard for the next 24 hours, you would think I had just shot a Bald Eagle out of the sky and was going to use it to bludgeon a California Brown Pelican to death while the newly hatched sea turtles looked on. And then use a plastic, grocery store bag to bury the bodies.

No, we will not be retiring in California.

But this is not really about a boy and his lizard or even about the passion for animals that radiates from Blue's every pore, every day. This doesn't even have anything to do with the fact that shows like Wild Kratts and Jack Hanna are specifically scripted to help children learn to care about all animals, not just the ones who get top billing at the biggest zoos. Blue knows what a Banded Archer Fish is, the difference between a Sloth Bear and a Sun Bear, and he can do a spot-on imitation of a capuchin. Thanks to PBS and the many hours we've spent in zoos all over the country, watching animals, talking with zookeepers and supplementing all of that with a library of animal books, Blue loves animals. He refers to our cat as his sister and I can drag him to the most boring event in the world, as long as there's at least a squirrel or a bird that stops by so he can study it for a few minutes. I don't doubt that he will grow up to be someone who rescues injured pets from the side of the road and keeps the bird feeder filled, even during the abundance of summer. But I fully expect him to go further; to become a zookeeper or a veterinarian or work with a wildlife rescue agency. That is the intensity of the flame that burns inside of him at this young age. And it shows no sign of flickering out.

So, yes...when he finally caught a lizard after 8 weeks of trying, we called my friend in San Diego to ask her what it likes to eat, what kind of environment it likes to live in and then we did our best to re-create it, even though we both understood this to be a temporary arrangement. But I wanted his home to be bigger, hence my request for the wardrobe box. Those things are huge and unwieldy. I thought I would be doing someone a favor. Instead, I was told that what I was doing was illegal (but by all means, go on down to Pacific Coast Highway and score a dime bag because, hey, it's California!!) and I believe I may have been loosely compared to Hitler. I don't know. The guy made some comment about how humanity had killed more than one thing within 24 hours so my time frame was unreasonable. Apparently, anything longer than 24 seconds was going to give the lizard PTSD.

OK, look...I get it. We are all hyper-sensitive these days...about a lot of things. We don't force the tigers to jump through rings of fire. Elephants no longer have to dance on hind legs just to prove they can do it. Zoos continue to catch flack everyday, for everything from the size of their enclosures to their breeding programs. I worked at a nature preserve in Lexington one summer and more than once we had people threaten to break into our visitor's center so they could free the red-eared slider turtle and the box turtle that had been happily crawling around in their huge tanks for years. No one wants to see an animal in captivity but we are more than happy to breed Labradors with Poodles so we can get a dog that is hypo-allergenic, doesn't shed and looks cute in a bow. I don't care about your Labradoodle. I would love to have one myself. But get off my ass about going to the zoo and catching a lizard. If you aren't biking to work, wearing the same cotton toga everyday and living in a bush by the river, you are probably contributing to the downfall of an animal's habitat in some way. But maybe you recycle, use cloth grocery bags, plant flowers for the butterflies, preach about saving the bees' hives and encourage your children to engage with nature in a way that makes them care about what happens to it as they grow up. And that is what matters.

To be fair, I used to not feel this way. I scolded Blue every time he picked a leaf from a tree to study its edges or wandered off the path and trampled the wildflowers as he excitedly searched for the Chickadee, whose call he recognized. Nature is fragile and we mustn't touch it. Just look at it from afar. We may damage it and then we'll lose it forever. Sort of an "if everyone picked just one flower there wouldn't be any left" kind of mentality.

But then I read THIS amazing article on Slate about kids and nature and it changed everything for me. I wanted to raise a child who engaged so much with nature that he became territorial of it, rushing to protect it when he saw others abusing it. And there is only one way to engage with nature. Pick the leaf, turn over the rock, climb the tree, temporarily re-home the lizard. Not every lizard in Southern California. Just one. They evolved from the dinosaurs. They can take it.

And y'know what? On the way home from Vacation Bible School that night we started talking about how the lizard's family felt when he didn't return home that evening. Yes, I may have equated Blue's captivity of his new reptile friend to kidnapping, but it got his attention. We talked about how Blue would feel if someone just ripped him away from us one day and took him to a new home; how scared he would be, regardless of how nice that new home was. We talked about what it would be like to not know where he was, who he was with, when he would see us again, if he was safe, if he would be fed or cared for. And then Blue said, "If I free the lizard tonight, will you put me to bed for the rest of the week?" He needed an out. He wanted to be Jack Hanna without being Ted Bundy. I looked in the mirror and said, "Of course."

When we got home, the lizard had made his escape, but Blue didn't cry the way he would have if we hadn't talked on the way home. He said, "I loved that lizard. I wish I had gotten his picture. I hope he got home OK." He's going to make a great animal caretaker someday.

I should also mention that I didn't write this so someone will comment about how wrong I am to take this opinion. You can quote your PETA facts but it isn't going to change my mind. This is for all the parents out there who worry that they will be ostracized for allowing their children to catch a minnow or tickle a sea anemone in the tide pools. Don't hold your breath and hope that no one noticed. We are carefully crafting great humans who will protect this earth with unwavering dedication. Don't ever apologize for that.