(I hope this history is accurate, but will gladly correct it if not. I believe Steve spent time in at least the following locations: Dover, Alconbury in England, Nebraska, Johnston Islands in the Pacific, Spain, and Tucson. For some reason, I think that this trip was to Tucson.)
They got out there and back safely though and had a great time. They both brought back a ton of stories about Paula from the trip. One that stands out in my mind, and that Dad must have told hundreds of times, involved precocious Paula at a local zoo. (Dad loved to tell this story too, particularly after a couple of cold ones - "Cold ones are in the back, Rich"). They walked up to the elephant exhibit and peered into the cage where a large elephant and a smaller one were positioned. Apparently, right around the time they all reached the elephant exhibit, mother nature made a call to the big elephant, who promptly dumped a massive #2. (Isn't it great when a plan comes together.)
No big deal - when you got to go, you got to go. But then the smaller elephant, for reasons I don't even want to know, lowers its trunk (a quite versatile appendage), and scoops up one of the massive dung boulders deposited by the big dog, examines it, and then gently drops it down.
Pregnant pause while the adults try to come to grips with what they just saw. Paula, nonchalantly, nets it out for everybody:
Mommy and Daddy....The little elephant is the poopy inspector.
