Our birthday was "for the birds"~ Syd & Amy's penguin pal

I should have known that I was in trouble when I called the aquarium to book the Penguin Encounter.  "And what are the ages of the participating individuals?" the voice on the other end of the phone inquired. "Well, I'm turning 48 in just a few days," I informed him. It felt suddenly as though I were talking to dead air. "Hello? Are you still there?" I asked. "Yeah," he answered quickly, "We just tend to schedule kids more."

For goodness sake, it's not like Sydney and I wanted to celebrate our birthdays at Chuckie Cheese. Doesn't EVERYONE love penguins? I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate turning 48 then by snuggling a suited-up seabird. Refusing to be shamed, I completed the booking. "Come early," the voice encouraged, "It's Mermaid Day!"

So for weeks, Sydney and I were a-twitter, anticipating our shared Penguin Encounter. Finally, the Big Day arrived. "Should I wear layers?" Savannah asked, "Will I be outside at all?" I assured her that the entire encounter would take place in the relative warmth of the aquarium. Oh, how wrong I was.

"Look at that line!" Sydney exclaimed as we attempted to find a spot in the crowded aquarium parking lot. "Why are all these people here?" Brad wondered, "Is there a special event?" I gasped. Mermaid Day! We reluctantly joined the line. "Is this for real?" Savannah asked, her frozen heart refusing to melt at the sight of a zillion little girls outfitted in fish tails and parkas. "Who goes to an aquarium to see some girl fitted in a fin wiggling around in the water when you can see a seal or a barracuda or even an over-sized carp?" Shivering, I lamented not wearing my eighty dollar Ursula costume both for its warmth and the theatrical effect.  After fifty minutes, a nervous aquarium staff member ventured into the crowd and clamored up a boulder. "May I have your attention, please," he bellowed, "Due to circumstances beyond our control, the mermaids will NOT be swimming today. The water temperature has reached a level deemed unsafe. Mermaids WILL be available for pictures." The cold crowd quickly evolved into an angry mob. Someone yelled, "Kill the mermaids!" Okay...that might have been me. Fortunately, no pitchforks were available but our guy scrambled down from his boulder when a group of vigilantes began unraveling the rope tied to a decorative anchor.

Spirits soared when we actually crossed the threshold into the aquarium. Turns out hostility is directly proportional to how cold your feet are. "May I have your attention," I should have bellowed in the parking lot, "Due to circumstances beyond my control, the temperature of my toes have reached a level deemed unsafe. I may soon embark on a murderous rage directed at anyone keeping me away from my penguin. Feel free to take pictures."

Like Disney princesses, Sydney and I were immediately whisked away to a small room filled with penguins. Our first impression was that the smell of penguin really packs a punch. But as soon as we spotted Opus, the smell disappeared. Don't believe the bumper stickers, Love DOES NOT stink. You haven't lived until you hold a handful of penguin. Bracing her chest in one hand, I stroked Opus's sleek feathery back, feeling her lean heavily against me until she was laying mobile on my open palm. "I can feel her heartbeat," I whispered to Sydney, enraptured. It was completely magical.

Sydney and I went into this little venture with some preconceived ideas. Actually, we spent hours plotting and planning. "Do you think they'd let us dress our penguin in little outfits and take pictures for a calendar," we wondered. "Or maybe just a white beard and Santa hat for our Christmas card." We considered rubbing sardine oil onto our hands to ensure that our penguin liked us. In retrospect, I'm glad we abandoned that idea after we witnessed the first penguin take a small hunk out of his trainer's hand. "I am NOT a trained seal," he seemed to say as he waddled away. We much preferred gentle, sleepy Opus.

It was an incredible way to celebrate our birthdays. We thanked little Opus for providing us with such a memorable experience and exited the room. "Did you have fun?" Brad asked, having had to witness my encounter through a small rectangular window like I was a member of a penguin police line-up. "It was great," I squealed, framing my face with both hands. "We need to find a bathroom right now," I said. "Are you feeling okay," he asked, concerned. "Yeah," I answered, "but my hands smell like penguin."