Oooklahoma, Where the Wi…ldlife Comes Shopping at Walmart

Up until this point in parenting, we’ve avoided most Fun Places. We’re firm believers that even the most magical place on earth isn’t magical with a toddler.

But now? Now our kids are slightly older and definitely more fun. Now with 7, 5, and 3 year olds who don’t immediately run into oncoming traffic and are mostly fine without a nap…now we adventure.

Like this weekend.

I knew Taylor would be working a lot, so I decided at about 10am on Friday to take a miniature road trip with the fellas. A quick Google search led me to an exotic animal park a few hours away and an Airbnb on a farm a little bit further than that.

2 hours later, we had the car packed, the first grader busted out of school, and were on our way.

The first stop was the exotic animal experience. The website looked amazing! They offer an add-on package where you can interact with a liger cub, a baby lemur, and a wolf pup. I called ahead to secure a spot.

When we arrived, one scan around the perimeter and a scrap piece of paper they called a “ticket” told me I’d paid too much.

While we waited 90 minutes for our turn with the baby animals (ironic since we were one of two families in the entire park), we walked around. The park itself can be best described by my 7 year old who said, “The farm we’re staying at tonight will be nicer than this, right? This place smells bad and all the animals look sad.”

The only real highlight (besides a heckling parrot and the……uh…….”wrestling” tigers who were doing their part to keep the interactive cub experience going) was running into an employee who let us play with her feisty 1 year old monkey. It was kind of a brat, but aren’t all toddlers?

When our Paid! Interactive! Exotic! Animal! Play! Time! finally came, another employee who undoubtedly relates to animals better than small children ushered us in to the exotic nursery by saying,

“There is to be NO loud-talking, NO playing, and NO standing. These are WILD animals. They are not pets, they are WILD. Go in and sit with your back against the wall. BACK AGAINST THE WALL.”

We filed in to the cage silently.

The liger cub immediately came up to us. As we reached out to pet her we heard, “KEEP YOUR ARMS DOWN. This is a WILD animal. Do not try to hold her, trap her, or play with her. Keep one of her stuffed animals nearby to give her if she starts to play or bite, otherwise she will BITE your THROAT. She’s a 9-week old WILD ANIMAL. You may only pet her back lightly as she walks past you. I will start the timer now, as you only get 12 minutes in total play time.”

(Yes, twelve whole minutes.)

Lion/tiger hybrid? Not scary.

Lion/tiger hybrid’s handler? Terrifying.

Next was the lemur who “NEEDS to PERCH on VERY straight ARMS”.

Then a ferret, randomly. (What is this, PetSmart?! We’re wasting our 12 minutes!)

Finally, the wolf pup.

Seeing as a wolf is also a WILD ANIMAL, we assumed the position she drilled into us: sitting comatose while she set the wolf pup near our legs. When no one reached out to hold, trap, or play with the pup (we’re nothing if not quick learners), she yelled, “WELL DON’T JUST LET HIM RUN OFF!! Hold him like a BABY! He’s just a 9-WEEK OLD, for goodness sake! Put your ARMS around him!!”

my respectful children:

I mean…if ever there’s a time to pick a lane, lady, now is it. We’re dealing with WILD animals, after all.

The whole experience was fascinating and hilarious.

I knew I had overpaid for our “delux” package (their spelling ranked up there with their kid-friendliness), but it wasn’t until we stopped at The Walmart down the road on our way to the Airbnb that I realized by how much.

It was there, at the self-checkout, that we had our own free, interactive macaw experience.

Just a man and his thirsty bird.

When met with this look on my face (managing expressions has never been my strong suit):

Macaw Man just shrugged and said, “He’s blind and only got one foot. He ain’t goin’ anywhere.” as if that was my primary concern.

What was foreign land had I taken my kids into?

Was all of Oklahoma this weird??

Would our Airbnb be a racket, too?!?

Passing this sign on the way certainly didn’t help my growing anxiety:

But then we arrived.

The Farm on Fishmarket, it’s called.

We were greeted by a white-haired farmer grandpa who shook all my boys’ hands and immediately took them down to feed the catfish. His wife came out a few minutes later and showed me around her home.

“No one had booked our little apartment yet this weekend, so we just wondered, ‘Ok, God, who are you gonna bring us?’ and here you are!” she said.

It was love at first homemade cinnamon roll—I mean, sight.

We helped do chores, ate fresh eggs, watched the sunsets on the porch, and played our little hearts out.

Turns out all of Oklahoma isn’t weird, just the exotic animal parts.

The farm was truly a slice of heaven, nary an escaped inmate in sight.

The next day, our precious hosts recommended a children’s museum in a neighboring town called Seminole, population 7,200. Being from one of the largest metropolitan areas with some of the best museums in the country, I must confess my skepticism.

But if there’s anything adventuring teaches me, it’s the treasures found off the beaten path.

And this museum was an absolute treasure.

It was truly delux, as they say.

This weekend adventure did not disappoint.

From the exotic animal handler experience (very dangerous) to the Walmart support bird to the hidden gem that is Jasmine Moran Children’s Museum to Airbnb at The Farm on Fishmarket…we had the best weekend.

My regrets are limited to two things:

That every one of my boys betrayed me by choosing to spend Saturday night watching Shrek instead of attending the “Two-Steppin’ Family Dance” I saw advertised in a teeny nearby town. (“Every Saturday! 7:30 pm! Live music! No tobacco or alcohol!”) Genuinely sad to miss that opportunity.
Walking through a local cemetery (Hutton’s choice – he thought zombies would come out…they didn’t) and not realizing until several minutes in that while Beckett and I were reading all the headstones and inscriptions, Davis was collecting various trinkets left on the graves by loved ones. Oops.