Heather called me Tuesday with a plan for us to get out of the house disguised as an educational opportunity for the children. She suggested that we take them to the NC Museum of Art and after I hyperventilated about corralling seven children running amok amidst priceless works of art, I decided the worst that could happen would be that we’d get kicked out and since I’m sure the paintings were highly insured admission was free, no big deal.
I informed the boys that we would be going to see cool stuff like a real! live! sarcophagus! and they scrunched their noses because apparently I was interrupting their scheduled time to play Club Penguin with friends with whom they had spent the previous seven hours at school. I may or may not have threatened to torch their computer given a little lecture about the decline of cultural literacy and my speech must have been effective because they assured me they were on board with the whole plan so off we went to the museum.
We were met at the entrance by a security guard and I’d like to think he was just being polite to hold the door open for me instead of passing judgement on the children who may or may not have been sporting some wet feet because they were playing in the shooting water garden near the outdoor bronze reproduction of The Thinker. I’m thinking it wasn’t such a great idea for them to have a feature which allows kids to get soaking wet before walking into a building, but, hey, that’s just me.
The kids loved the museum with its white shiny walls and tall ceilings that helped create wonderful echo effects. They loved the Pop Art section’s painting of a vortex and grabbed a floating wall to avoid being sucked into the black hole. The security guard loved to be of service to show them how the floating wall could, indeed, float and that it might not be a good idea to do that.
We sailed right along into Ancient Egypt where the kids oohed and aahed over the sarcophagus and the security guard choked and gurgled and looked like she was about to have a heart attack from the pressure of having to protect King Whatshisname from the ravages of feral children. I wanted to tell her that there was a box conveniently waiting for her right there under glass, but she didn’t look like the type of person who would appreciate my brand of humor so we moved on.
There were so many beautiful things to see inside and I’m sure we would have gotten to them had not the kids spied an outdoor body of water with room to run around it. By this point, Heather and I felt we’d hissed whispered “Don’t touch that!” one too many times so we just sat outside and let them play to their heart’s content while we let our adrenaline levels normalize.
We decided the security guards kids had experienced enough for the day and we celebrated not landing on the eleven o’clock news by heading to Loco Pops and I got a pomegranate-tangerine and a mango-chile popsicle that may have changed my life.
And then I went home and collapsed.
Have a nice day.