I visited a zoo recently.
While I am typically adamantly against zoos on a principlel level, I was forced into the interaction because it was summer and I had family visiting.
My aunt has two children who are a handful (to say the least) at ages two and five.
The littlest one insisted on screaming the entire car ride there, all the time there, and the entire ride home.
She screamed when she wanted ice cream and she screamed when she dropped her ice cream and she screamed when a new ice cream was purchased because the vendor had forgotten the rainbow sprinkles.
The only thing that quieted both her and my mind was the monkeys. She seemed entranced by their large ears and pink bums.
She giggled and laughed from her stroller as they waddled about their enclosures.
One of them got close to the glass and stared at us. I hated it because it seemed so close to us, not physically but on a genetic level. It was as though someone had made them as a sick joke.
It was as though the monkey was a parody of us.