We went to the zoo Sunday afternoon, along with most of greater Phoenix. It was the perfect day — sunny but chilly enough that nothing smelled bad.

You might make the giraffes your first stop at the zoo, or the zebras or the squirrel monkeys, but not our family — we hit the carousel. The girls broke into a run when they saw it, and yeah, looking back, I guess Sophie was a bit of a sight, racing along like a wind-up toy, arms flailing, probably squealing. I wasn’t really paying attention to how different she looked. Not til a woman in a purple sweater sitting on a bench in front of the carousel purposefully caught my eye as we passed.

“She’s precious!” the woman said loudly. I smiled and nodded in agreement, thanking her as I rushed to keep up with Sophie.

And then, almost like it was a warning — or a threat – this woman bellowed out, “SHE’S SPECIAL!”

I didn’t acknowledge that. But while I wanted to shake the oddness of the encounter, I couldn’t.

Ray manned the camera while Annabelle, Sophie and I boarded the carousel. Annabelle grabbed an animal and climbed on alone. Sophie considered that then chose the bench, as she often does.

When we got off the carousel, the woman in the purple sweater was gone.

An hour later, we’d eaten lunch and played in a treehouse and still hadn’t seen an animal. Sophie asked for another carousel ride, and as we approached the line, I saw the woman in the purple sweater. She was with another woman (young enough to be her daugther, I suppose) in a turquoise sweatshirt and a white turtleneck, her hair cut short — her features unmistakable.  They disappeared into the gift shop.

This time, Sophie got brave. She let me balance her on a jackrabbit, though she begged me to hold onto her the whole time. I did. I couldn’t help it — I craned my neck as the carousel swooped around, looking for those women. I didn’t see them again.

After that ride, we gathered Annabelle and Ray and hit the trail to finally see a few animals. By now Sophie was tired — and stubborn. I bribed her to move along with the promise of one last carousel ride. I promised myself that I wouldn’t look for the woman in the purple sweater.

This time, Sophie chose to ride a black dog, and she didn’t let me hold on. She was so proud of herself – clutching the brass pole with her tiny hands, moving to the corny music. We both cracked up the whole time.

Some days feel like a merry-go-round — like the movie Groundhog Day, like an endless cycle of laundry and dishes and making school lunches and therapy sessions and odd reminders of what is and what’s to come.

It’s important to grab a carousel ride in the sun when you have the chance.