The pain! The horror!

I am a joyful person. People have called me "annoyingly nice." Apparently, when I say "yay," it usually comes out more like "yayy hay hay hay" because I am typically laughing. But this week I learned that naive joy in life's simple pleasures can be deadly.

Mom and I went to Whitney's farm to choose flowers to plant this spring. It was a glorious day outside, and the lovely local farm buzzed with insects and smelled amazing. Much to my surprise and delight, I learned that there was a petting zoo for customers to explore. My inner child did a flip- a petting zoo! What joy! "Mom, we have to go!" I exclaimed, unbuckling and bounding out of the car. I headed straight to the little row of pens. Flower shopping could wait.

The petting zoo was a lovely place for families. Each pen had a little gumball machine filled with food nuggets you could give the animals. I eagerly dug around for quarters to stick in the machine. Unfortunately, the farm lady was one step ahead of me and had just fed the animals their lunch. My little handful of num-nums was nothing compared to the fresh hay and grain they had in their buckets. Each animal more or less shunned my attempts at friendship and feeding. Whatever, I thought. These are just the boring sheep and goats. What I was really excited for was the "grand finale" pen. It had a llama and a pony!

"Hello Llama! Yayy hay hay!" I skipped merrily over to its pen, num-nums in hand. The llama picked its head up from its bale of hay and looked right into my eyes.

"Want some nummies!?" I extended my hand of little pellets towards the animal. The llama was acting weird. It stretched its neck up tall and tilted its head backwards. For one second, I wondered if something was wrong.

Then, it happened.




"DAHHHHHHHHHHHH" I screamed. I was hit at point blank range. Let me tell you, nothing you have ever seen on America's Funniest Home videos can ever prepare you for getting "spit" on by a real llama. The "spit," was hot, thick- the consistency of hair gel- and smelled like vomit and poop combined. It was everywhere, in my hair, my face, my eyes were burning, my brand new otto-the-orange tee shirt was decked. My mom, who was witness to this nightmare, wasn't sure to laugh, cry or gag. All I could do was roll around on the ground screaming and trying not to hurl.

I made my way into the farmstand shop where I kindly asked to wash my face in the employee bathroom. To my complete horror, I saw some of this stuff stuck in my teeth. I went home and immediately showered and scrubbed every inch of me for half an hour.

In the aftermath I also did a little research. Here's what I found:

"It's called spitting only because that is the way it appears to be ejected from the llama's mouth. The accompanying sound is more like that of coughing. Although the term suggests saliva, llama spit is actually partially digested stomach contents having a smell so foul that one would think it should be brown instead of green...

...When a llama is spit upon, the accompanying smell sickens him enough to curb his appetite. When a human is spit upon, it has the affect of sending him running for the nearest shower. Fortunately this does not happen often, and if one is observant, he will respect the early warning signs that precede green rain: ears back and neck extended in an abnormal manner."

I will never, ever be the same.