The museum and “Goddamn”

Ah, a week day off for my husband.  So what should we do?  Save money and go somewhere that we already have an annul pass. So Evan, where do you want to go?  The zoo or the museum?  As Evan did a pile drive into his father, who was trying to sleep in (ha!), Evan shouted “I want to see the dinosaurs!”  Well, that settled that question.  So it was time to chase down kids to get them dressed.  Evan chose a dinosaur shirt for the occasion, which shocked me.  After growing up with brothers (one who is metro-sexual and one who just wants a clean shirt that’ll match his eyes {they both like impressing the opposite sex}), it surprised me to hear a boy put an actual thought into a theme for the day.  But what the hell?

As I pushed everyone out the door so that we could get the most time in, I turn to my husband to remind him if had bought the parking pass with the annual pass we wouldn’t have to bring change.  His response was that we would never go then.  And we can always park across the street at the mall and walk over.  Right, carrying a 16 month old who weighs the amount of an 18 month old and a diaper bag?  Right.  I don’t think so.  We’ll just pay the three bucks.

Of course as soon as we got there, Sean was asleep and was dead weight to carry.  As soon as I could, I transfered his weight to my husband and took Evan into the wind tunnel to show support of the weather reporters braving Gustav.  Then we stared at the water vortex for a while because Evan is obsessed with it.  I don’t know if it’s because it’s neat to watch or because the word is neat to say. 

Then it was a whirlwind of activity through the museum as Tornado Evan and Sean went looking for excitement in completely opposite directions.  While Sean stubbornly had to go down the tiny slide head first no matter how I turned him, Evan learned about gravity by rolling a ball down the funnel until a dozen tries later my husband got Evan to roll the ball around the funnel.  (As you noticed, I have no idea what the experiment is called because I’m usually trying to keep the boys from throwing hard little balls at people.)  Evan built a wall, and Sean pushed buttons on the Buzz Aldrin exhibit.  I did learn Buzz Aldrin got his name from his little sis who said “buzzer” instead of “brother.”  As I was ready to sit down after following Sean around the building four times, I mentioned dinosaurs to Evan as we passed by.

To the bottom floor and outside, refusing the story time because we have better things to do, we explored the inside of a brachiosaurus, learning all about it’s digestive system.  In other words, Evan wanted to see the dinosaur poop.  Yup, the most important thing in that museum is a plastic pile of dinosaur dung that is perfectly under the dinosaur who has a tube coming out its rectum with black balls falling into the pile, which is cleverly shaped like a bench.  Lovely!  At least, the boys worked together to do the giant dinosaur bone puzzle before climbing over the dung.  Evan kept yelling for his parents to sit on the poop.  “Mommy, mommy.  Over here!  Sit on the dinosaur poop, Mommy!”  Sean was content to put the puzzle pieces back into the box with a clatter.

Then there’s the cave.  Inside the cave is a projection of a t-rex or a raptor (I don’t know which), who roars and walks by.  It’s great fun to watch people walk in for the first time because they always jump a foot off the ground at that first roar.  Evan has a love-hate relationship with the cave.  He has to go in there, but he is more frighten every time.  Watching Sean brave the cave first, Evan went and stayed behind his baby brother.  When the dinosaur roared, I roared back, and Sean laughed as Evan backed away to the edge of the cave.  As a new family came in to investigate, Evan hung right behind the parents, staying just behind them.  It was hilarious as my husband tried to get Evan to come out of the cave.

Yesterday marked the first time Evan peed in a public potty.  He tinkled, but I was excited.  I showed him I could pee too, and Evan insisted on holding my leg so I didn’t fall in.  So we left, only to find Evan still had to go pee and choose to do it in his car seat.  Great.  Now I have to wach the damn thing.

As we pulled into a parking lot of a nice strip mall, Evan suggested we “go over there because they serve pizza.  Do you like pizza, Daddy?  Evan does!”  We were actually going to the pizza parlor.  “After the pizza store, we can go to the party store.  After the party store, we can go to the book store.”  My husband looked at me, and I smiled.  “I think we’ll do just the pizza today,” my husband said. 

Another quick note: Evan said “goddamn! that was really funny!” the other day while we had company over.  It was clear as a bell.  We all just sat quiet and watched him.  He wasn’t even talking to us; he was talking to his fork as the grownups discussed McCain and Palin.  So I igrnored it, praying he won’t say it again.  Or at least until I can wash his mouth out with soap and have him understand what THAT punishment meant.  And if God is good, Evan will forget the phrase before my parents come because they will know I said it.  But God has a sense of humor, so I’m sure Evan’ll say it some time.  Probably in front of one of MY grandmas.  Then I’m really in trouble.