The Butterfly Garden
When people picture the zoo, they never think of groups of teenagers blending in with the usual crowd. But there we were, armed with sunscreen and enough money to buy all of the overpriced, unhealthy food our little hearts desired. We foresaw many Dippin’ Dots in our future. Only five minutes after we’d entered the zoo and we were panting from exhaustion. I made a mental note to bring an adult-sized wagon the next time we came. Sadly, when I suggested this to my friends, they scoffed at the thought of pulling me around. When I offered to rotate turns, they looked at their significantly shorter selves and my lanky build and gigantic backpack and deemed that it would still be unfair. I sniffed at their claims and looked down at myself, wondering what they could find so disagreeable.
Right in the front of the zoo’s entrance was what I have deemed “The Building of Flying Stuff.
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