This morning, the schools were on a 1 hour delay. Another mother, smarter than I, mentioned that it would be a good day to avoid swarms of 3rd graders, whooping and hollering, on their field trips. (I dread field trippers around small children; they make them cry and cower.) So off we went to the children's museum. I remembered my tiny camera that I got for days such as these. And I remembered that I have never regretted taking a single picture of my children. I should take more. So here you have an ordinary day in the life of a mom of two tiny boys who has a museum membership to a wonderful place to take small children on a cold morning in N.C.
Little Worrywart and his smiley mother, who put on makeup this morning, but did not wash her hair. That sweater is one she inherited from her father, a man who did not ski, but somehow ended up with a skiing sweater 'round about 1975. It's one of my favorites. No, I'm not giving it to Goodwill. Don't ask me again, Mom.
Look, Mom, I found a hat and a gigantic steering wheel and I'm concentrating very hard on my driving. Don't bother me; I have people to run over...
They have a new exhibit upstairs that I love. It's supposed to be about money and banking, but it really isn't. There's this thing, and you load balls into the apparatus, and then turn the wheel, and they go up, and then they bounce down again. It's very, very fun. But my favorite thing is the giant pink pig bank hanging from the ceiling that opens its bottom and drops balls into the ball pit below whenever you get enough in there. It's also very, very fun. I'm glad I have children so I can play at this place...
Stop the world. No, really, just reach your hand out, put it on there, and it'll stop. I promise. Now, stop whining, or you won't get a granola bar when we get back to the car.
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