Killing me softly...

Thursday nights are karaoke nights here at Blue Water Resort. This is fantastic news, if you are inclined to drink yourself brave, grab a mic and murder your terrible version of "Country Roads". However, if you have a sleeping toddler and you long for a peaceful meal and an early night, this is rather unfantastic news. Especially if the karaoke has been set up in such a way that the background music is soft and the slurring off-key butchering of a melody is so loud that you feel like inflicting the same kind of pain to the so-called singers. (Even if the crooner is Sean Connery who, allegedly, sings at Compass Point on the odd occasion. He lives down the road but so far we haven't had a Sean-sighting). Death (slow and extremely painful) to karaoke!

Talking about pet hates... The Adastra Zoo here in Nassau sounded like a swell idea. Tiny would be able to run around and see exotic and wonderful animals. Turns out there is one jaguar, one monkey, one invisible boa constrictor (Tiny! Where are you?!), a rooikat (lynx in English, Myrtle thinks) and then an assortment of birds running and flying around freely. Myrtle had an emotionally scarring experience when she was about ten years old. Her brother followed her into the chicken coup and threw a chicken towards her as she was about to leave the coup with four eggs clutched in her sweaty paws (Myrtle has never trusted those beady little chicken eyes.  They follow you around, one slow step at a time). Myrtle was scared witless when the chicken's claws got caught in her knitted top and, in an attempt to free itself, the chicken's flapping wings slapped Myrtle silly for a minute or so. Claws, feathers and beaks have never been the same...

So, when Tony decided to participate in the lory (loerie, in Afrikaans) feeding event, Myrtle politely declined to join in the feathery fun. Tony and Tiny excitedly entered the cage and were handed apple slices. The lories flocked to their outstretched arms and when one perched on Tiny's head, Myrtle knew she had made the right decision to observe from the outside. While Tiny didn't like the bird on her head, her face just crumpled and she said: "Pappa!". Tony shooed it away and they continued the feeding. Myrtle knew that, if a bird had landed on her head, she would've gone postal in a second. She would've swung her backpack above her head, screaming and swearing like a cavewoman and if she had some sort of batting instrument handy, feathers would've flown. Birds are not your friends, as demonstrated by the free-wheeling flamingoes.

The Turtles sat down to watch the much lauded flamingo show.  They were supposed to precision-march with a human drill sergeant putting them through their paces.  In reality a person ran after the flamingoes, chasing them from one side of the arena to the other...  Charming.  Of course they picked Tony to participate in the show and Tiny refused to let go of her daddy.  So the two of them entered the arena with three other silly people.  Myrtle looked on with trepidation as a flamingo circled one of the female human sacrifices. The flamingo stopped right behind her, stretched himself out as tall as possibly could and pecked her on the noggin!  Myrtle's motherly instincts kicked in (and she was heavily supported by two grandmothers sitting next to her) and she grabbed Tiny from Tony's arms.  No child of her is going to be pecked senseless by a sly pink flamingo, no way!