"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!"

A couple weekends ago, we packed up the Radio Flyer complete with attachable backpack cooler, strapped Wyatt in the car seat, and set off for the San Antonio Zoo to meet his "Lolly" (Grandma) and "Pop" (Grandpa).  On one of the few recent days where the weather was really nice in SA town, we decided to watch the animals.  Apparently several thousand other people had the same idea.  I'm not a fan of crowds, but the crowd didn't get to me too much that day, so my memories aren't haunted by the stress of fighting other people just to get a view of some fish native to South America.

The most memorable moment of the day occurred in the midst of a big crowd at the petting zoo.  I don't know the name of the goats that were available for petting, but they were shorter than Wyatt.  Wyatt, as far as we know, hasn't been spending time with goats of any kind and figured these goats were not very intimidating, so Wyatt would be fairly comfortable with them.

I keep predicting that Wyatt is going to be an analyst, a biologist, or in some other profession that involves intense concentration and observation skills.  He will stare intently before making a move, seemingly sizing up the pros and cons of the situation.  We moved in close to one of the goats.  I squatted down and Wyatt stood between my knees, resting a hand on each leg.  His silence signaled what I've already explained..."I'm just checking everything out...I'm not moving, not doing anything...yet!"

He remained silent and still until the goat turned and looked at him.  There was no other movement from the goat, just a look, which became a stare.  To this point, Wyatt's only known words were "mamamama," "dadadada," and maybe "baby."  I can't remember if he learned "baby" just yet.  So, we were shocked to hear him nervously say "oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" as he turned toward me with his arms grasping for my jacket.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!"  As I think of his anxiety and fear, I wonder how much I'm like him when something unfamiliar and possibly scary stares me in the face.  Is my first response "oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" combined with a quick turn into the arms of my Dad (aka Lord God, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the great I AM, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace...you get the idea)?

As a man, it feels a little wimpy that this would be a normal and appropriate response to fear or the unfamiliar.  Aren't I supposed to be tough enough to just stare right back without blinking and without any support from anyone but me?  It makes for exciting movies, and stirring poems (think "Invictus" by William Earnest Henley which finishes resolutely with these words; "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.").

As tough and strong as it sounds to declare that "in the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud" I think Wyatt had it right; wince, cry "oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" and turn to Daddy!  What's better? To follow his lead and feel desperation and fear or clinging to the charade of living out a lie - that "I'm the master of my fate and the captain of my soul."?