Freaky Friday: Llama Drama

I'm interrupting regular Freaky Friday to bring you this awesome tale of animal taming and to reiterate how much I dislike the end of the school year.

Yesterday my son's preschool class had a field trip planned. We live fairly close to the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple, which has a huge llama farm attached to it, so the kids were going to take a tour of the grounds and then feed and ride some llamas. I was going to opt out of going because I pretty much always opt out of going, but my son gave me a puppy dog look and asked if I'd come too, so I loaded up the car and headed over.

While we situated the kids at the preschool, Andrew's teacher let us know that yesterday's group went and weren't able to ride the llamas because apparently they got out of the pen and ran away and the keepers couldn't catch them again. So, the keeper asked that we head straight for the llamas when we got there and take care of the kids' rides before the llamas got wise and took off again.

I had no idea llamas were so diabolical.

So we all pull up to the Temple. There are at least a dozen other moms there to the 20 or so kids and luckily, one of my friends was there with her son. We let the kids run off and play as we chatted for a minute. The kids all sat on the temple steps to hear a spiel from the keeper.

She talked exactly like this:















So naturally, I started giggling.

She explained that they would walk down to the llama pens, feed the llamas and then take them down to the ride pavilions. Sure! I took Andrew and we walked. Which is when he informed me that the farm stunk and he wanted to go home. Oh, no, Andrew. We must stay! It's so fun! He took one look at those llamas and was like:



So we stayed back and looked at some peacocks while the other kids fed the llamas.

Then, the Lover Lady -- as she came to be known in my brain -- let the llamas out of the pen and proceeded to put them on DOG LEASHES.

DOG. LEASHES.



She had one high school-looking helper and only two llamas that would let kids ride them, so I thought oh, OK, she has the helper to help lead the llamas. They started in the direction of the pavilion and all of us moms and kids followed.

Halfway down the hill, the Lover looks at me -- dressed in my stylish and very country-looking Fryes, of course -- and says "Can you handle this llama?" And me and my friend are like:



But since I never say no to ANYONE, I said yes.OF COURSE I could handle the llama. I have my Ph.D. in Llama-Handling with a minor in I'm a Freaking Idiot Who Needs to Learn to Say No.

I take the leash and the llama. And, while my friend is quietly laughing me, she's handed the other leash. HA! And I get all smug like:



Because suddenly I'm the best llama wrangler you've ever seen. And I'm wearing my motherfletching Fryes like I was born to live on a llama farm.

So we lead these llamas down to the pavilion and the teacher starts getting the kids organized. This is when my llama and I start developing a deep-seated hatred for each other. I'm just standing there, trying to be as far away from this animal as possible and he wants to be my face. All of a sudden he's like:



And I start panicking, because llamas are scary. I should also point out that I'm afraid of anything erratic. Birds. Spiders. Llamas for sure. They can smell fear.

Also, my llama wants to be face-to-face and his breath smells like death wrapped in congealed bacon and then set on fire and covered in poo.

The Lover puts a kid up on this makeshift saddle thing and tells me to start leading the llama across to the other pavilion. Sure thing, boss! Of course, this is when the llama begins kicking his legs wildly and I'm faced with visions of telling this child's mother that he was killed in a freak llama stampede. When the Lover noticed that my llama was "acting up", she puts ANOTHER leash on him and tells her helper to also try leading him. Suuuuure.

As we start our walk, we find out that my friend's llama will only walk if there's another llama in front of it. So I have to go in front. We make it across one pass and unload the kid and are loading a new one.

And this is when my llama starts growling at me.

But llamas don't growl so much as they make annoyed Marge Simpson noises. The helper holding onto the other side of my llama says "That noise means he's really upset" and then proceeds to put another child on the llama's back. This is when the llama begins to growl louder and toss his head like Ru Paul at a drag show:



He Does. Not. Want.

I'm hanging on for dear life and praying that the kid doesn't fall off and we try and make another pass. Halfway across the pavilions, my llama decides that he's real tired of this crap and wants to go home. He's clearly having some sort of crisis.



The only way to get him to keep going is to put a bowl of food in his face. The helper grabs one and holds it out and the llama then proceeds to viciously bash his face into the bowl, grab a mouthful of food and then eat it in a way that flings mushy food particles all over me.














So the order of people was now helper, helper's bowl, me, my devil llama, my friend and her obstinate llama.

I am now covered in llama hair, llama food and still hanging onto a leash attached to a llama who I am sure wants to eat my soul for breakfast. All of the kids -- except for mine -- wanted to go for a ride and I was basically dead inside. And did any other mom step in for a turn? No! Everytime I tried to catch one of their eyes they'd be like:



An hour later and we were finally done. The Lover took us on a tour of the rest of the grounds, including such delights like
- feeding the koi three full containers of goldfish food.
- seeing two parrots who would snap your finger like a twig
- learning about why cows are our ancestors
- and seeing a random rabbit that jumped across the property

When we finally ended the tour and were allowed to leave I was just dirty and done. I went to the nearest restaurant, scrubbed myself as much as possible and then ordered a cupcake. Last night I also took the world's longest shower/bath combo to get the llama stink out.



And I never want to see another llama again in my life. 


The best news? My daughter has a field trip today.













THE END.