B is for bisontine -- pertaining to bison.
Which is completely relevant because last weekend Opie and I went back to St. Louis for a family birthday party. And if you didn't realize that the Lou was a steaming hotbed of bison activity, don't worry neither did I--and I lived there for years.
But his sister's family lives near Lone Elk Park and our nephew talked us into going to see the animals before the birthday party. And not only are there elk all over the park but there is this whole bison preservation area too.
And right before you drive in, there is the best warning sign ever:
The only downside is that, after reading it, no matter what I said, when we found the herd, Opie refused to take our new car off road and investigate the intricacies of bisontine behavior.
"But I want to get a picture,” I said. “And just think of the story I could tell on my blog if a bison ATTACKED OUR CAR!"
Oddly, this didn't move him at all.
And he wouldn't even let me get out of the car to take a single close up picture of the bison.
It was perhaps to make up for this that he held off for a few minutes when one of the elk got interested in us.
“Hurry up,” he said. “Take the stupid picture!”
“Just a second, just a second,” I said.
And then I realized that objects in the viewfinder might be closer than they appeared.
“Go!” I yelled, frantically rolling up the window. “Go, go, go!”
Which isn't as good a story as an unprovoked bison attack but probably better for our finances and our relationship.
Who knows what C day will bring?