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Lesson Learned
If you decide to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and there's no reason not to because there is plenty to see for most varieties of adults and children, I would caution you not to do one thing: do not overpromise a visit with the gigantic Jeff Koons balloon dog in the roof garden. Apparently the garden is closed all the time for reasons of weather, practicality, and museum affairs and one really can't count on it so much as cheer when it is open and one is able to provide a terrific surprise.
Of course I promised the balloon dog and of course, OF COURSE it rained and the guards remained firmly planted in front of the elevator leading to the roof garden, so I had a sullen kid to drag around through otherwise tantalizing exhibits of armor and swords and Greek sculpture.
But the day was not a loss because I learned something else as well. While buying our passes to get in to the musuem, I asked for an extra "we paid" button because Felix, who loves accessories, would surely want one. (If you've never been to the MET, you signal that you've paid for admission by putting on this little metal "M" button. They change color every day.) I was a little surprised when the woman at the admission table refused me an extra pin (kids under 12 years old enter at no charge).
And then she explained things. Apparently the buttons, which are made of very thin bendy metal are slightly notorious for leaving little cuts on kids' fingers. She went on to say that the MET's nurse's station (and I admit to being surprised that the museum HAS a nurse's station) finally complained to the admissions department because they were overrun with requests for Band-Aids.
Anyway, at that moment, Felix was still caught up in the romance of seeing the giant balloon doggie (dashed hopes were soon to follow and remain dashed even now) and didn't notice that he was denied a button, so I was feeling pretty good about things. But of course, someone else noticed what was up.
Our last stop with now mopey and sad Felix turned out to be a bumble through the back entrance of the Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy exhibit, and somewhere just past the Spiderman display and close to the Superman/Clark Kent hologram, I happened to glance down at Sebastian, who I was wearing for the trip and to whom I had been complaining about the roof garden being closed. His face was smeared with blood.
In moments I discovered that, indeed, those admission ladies know what they're talking about. He had apparently plucked off my button, played with it until he painlessly nicked his finger (he had not peeped about it) and then threw the thing away (making his mother ripe for being ejected from the museum). After that what was there to do but grab at his face, blotching it up with dried blood? A close examination revealed a fingertip with very minimal, papercut-level really, damage. The bleeding was certainly over and Sebastian couldn't have cared less. I admit to being a little surprised and quite relieved that no one mentioned my kid's messy face. At least I was the one who had him on, it would have made my husband look really bad to be the one with the bloody-faced kid... on Father's Day, no less.
Happy Father's Day to all, by the way.
posted by Elise at 6:57 PM
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Laura K. Curtis said...
Apparently, the Met would be better to switch to "I paid" band-aids.
6/17/2008 4:13 PM
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Laura K. Curtis said...