When my kids were young, I did the parental thing, which meant throwing the dreaded birthday parties, chaperoning field trips and all the other traumatic events that involve moving children.

I'd like to say it was fun, but frankly, it wasn't. Why? Because I would spend the whole time at the events as if I were a Secret Service agent guarding the president. Laser eyes everywhere. Watching hands. Watching feet. Watching children.

Were the kids having fun? Were the kids all present and accounted for? Were the kids surfacing after they jumped into that pool of stupid plastic balls? And who was that strange man fiddling with a video camera instead of helping me count children? It was exhausting.

Maybe it's all that experience as a parent, but now that my children are grown up, I have a new rule of thumb: I only go out with young children whom I can give back to their rightful owners at any time.

And the activities must interest me. Think I'm alone in this? Check out the top movies at the box office. The parent-friendly ones, where the adults might actually get a few chuckles, are always at the top of the list.

I put the principle to the test on a recent outing with my 7-year-old nephew and 10-year-old niece. They had seen every movie out there, so I decided we would visit the zoo. I hadn't been there in years, and it was one of those pristine Denver days.

The kids were excited because they thought they could watch Gidget the sea lion pick the Broncos game, as seen on TV.

After tromping around the zoo and watching the sea lion show - and, no, I did not shove anyone out of the way to get closer to the fence (get over it, lady) - the kids wanted to go on the train. By then, I was tired - am I 25 years old anymore? No, I am not. So I thought, "The train? Riding around, listening to cool commentary on the animals? Why not?"

Six dollars and 15 minutes later, we were still waiting in line to catch the train. And then I remembered why I found parenting so, well, challenging: Nature was calling one of the children - big time. And because I'm out of practice, I hadn't scoped out where the bathrooms were.

We got out of the line and raced for the bathroom, only we didn't know where it was. And I couldn't find any zoo worker who seemed to think it was in his or her job description to tell me. Come on - this is a zoo filled with parents and little kids. That should be a job requirement.

At last we located the needed facility. We returned to the train only to find that the line had re-formed. I was not waiting another 15 minutes for a five-minute train ride. So I walked up to the very young train person who was hooking and unhooking the rope to keep the human animals at bay. I can take him, I figured. I said, very politely, "Please, Mr. Train Person, don't make me wait in line for another 15 minutes. Nature called and we had to answer."

He looked at the crowd. He looked at me. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do that." Clearly, he was afraid of inciting a riot in the train line. Which I understand. These lines can get ugly. However, I begged him to throw it open to the parents and let them decide.

All of them nodded sympathetically, because they'd all been there and let us in. Hooray.

After all that, the train ride was ridiculous. You rode around in a circle with not much to look at, and we couldn't hear the conductor from the back. I finally was forced to do my own running commentary - "Look kids, squirrels" - and point out the bathrooms.

Nevertheless, we had a great time. I also followed another new rule of thumb: When you're with kids who are not your own, you can eat dessert first. They'll learn nutrition on their own time.

This was our lunch: Soft-serve ice cream, cotton candy, Dippin' Dots and french fries. Works for me.

My only big decision: Pink cotton candy? Or green?

I love this non-parenting thing. No contest. We had both.

When she's not shoving junk food down the throats of her nephew and niece, Marty Meitus is the Food editor. meitusm@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-5229