Outnumbered Two to One

At some point my husband and I delude ourselves into thinking the art museum would make a great family outing. Admission is next to nothing, comparatively speaking, and we figured our children were about due for a hefty dose of culture. Why we thought our 18 month old would do anything other than screech at the top of his lungs is beyond me.

The rest of the children were cooperative enough to start, but unfortunately the museum was not conducive to quiet contemplation. The first room on our tour, was a like giant empty banquet hall. Art galore on the walls, pieces my daughters disregarded as squiggles, but the rest of the room, aside from a pair of austere benches, was completely bare. That was too much of an invitation for my kids who proceeded to run in circles like a bunch of galloping ponies, drawing the attention of the rather severe security guards who for the rest of our visit felt the need to shadow our entire family like we were going to walk off with a showpiece tucked in the back of the stroller. Or worse yet, that we might let our little hellions rip all their valuable and indecipherable art to shreds.

It was a tad stressful. My five year old drama king, was putting on quite a show, dragging himself through the museum as if each of his tiny shoes was filled with cement. He was “starving” he’d say, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. It was really hard to do any art appreciating under those conditions. They had a very fascinating Cuban art exhibit that I wasn’t able to take in as fully as I would have liked. My kids were practically cheering on the elevator ride back down to the lobby.

I’m hoping they gleaned some sort of culture from our trip though, at the very least through osmosis.

The highlight of the day for them—visiting the Barnes and Noble after lunch.