After some quibbling and a few compromises, Nick and Adrian came to the conclusion that we should go to the Museum of Flight today. I had to threaten to make the decision myself if they couldn't figure it out. I don't know why they didn't trust me to pick something fun to do.
The boys weren't moving very quickly because of their sleepover, but I still made them help me get things ready to go. We have a picnic basket that we fill up for outings. We bring it every time we're going anywhere good. The boys filled it with tuna salad, Bing cherries, strawberries, blueberries, a chocolate bar, canteens of water, and cartons of chocolate milk. It was a feast and they dug in before we even got to I-90.
After we got there, we wandered around aimlessly for a bit. I wondered if we'd come too many times, but then we all started to get into it like the people around us. I love seeing people who are excited about aeronautics. We stand, reading placcards about the planes and stare at the elegant engines. We crawl into cockpits to get our pictures taken. We shuffle up to short lines and wait to play the games, landing the space shuttle or the lunar module. It isn't just for kids, though Nick kept landing the space shuttle and I kept crashing it. Go figure.
My favorite part is talking to the docents. Many of them are retired Boeing employees and avid pilots. I can almost see them imagining themselves breaking records and flying in space. Maybe some of them have. They love knowing details. When we told one of them that Adrian liked to spend most of his flight simulator time upside-down, he told us that plane the plane for him would probably have been 'The Newsboy,' an old orange plane with yellow wings. It broke a record for flying upside-down the farthest, going from Los Angeles to San Diego in the 1930s.
We watched Air Force One being polished to a high gloss by volunteers. This isn't the current Air Force One, but the one that took Lyndon B. Johnson to Dallas after JFK was shot and later took Nixon to China. I like looking at the old IBM typewriter on board and imagining myself sitting there to type my next speech. It really is too bad they can't let you sit at the President's desk. That kind of thing is great for kids' minds.
After we looked at freeze-dried food and read about how astronauts relieve themselves in space, Adrian convinced me to go into the flight simulator with him. He's flying better these days, so after waiting nervously in line, it was a relief that we only hung upside-down twice during our run.
Then, the boys decided they were hungry. We always eat at the snack bar and they expected no less this time. My stomach was still recovering from it's back flips, so I went for a simple garden salad. Nick ordered a pulled pork sandwich. Oh man, that thing was good. I ended up mooching, but just a little. Really.
Next, we spent almost an hour negotiating in the gift shop. I understand moms who never dare to enter the gift shop zone. I told the boys that I'd spend $7.00 on each of them and Nick, the master negotiator, spent his whole time asking for a bigger share instead of shopping and getting done. That gift shop really does have some great gifts. In the end, I told Nick that he could take a loan on Friday's allowance. He's good. He's really good. Maybe he should study law some day.
Both boys decided to spend their money at the machine that made dog tags. Adrian's motto was 'You're no good to me if you're dead.' Nick's was 'Better alive than dead.' On the way out, I tried to decide what my motto might be. I'm too old to appreciate anything about being dead. The boys might throw something back at me like 'Use your brain,' or 'Do it now so I don't have to worry about it later.' Nothing else I could think of sounded good, just stuff you'd find carved into a rock or printed on a cookie jar.
On the way home, before the boys fell asleep, they spit cherries out the window. I made them watch traffic so we didn't break any windshields or goober any nice paint jobs.
It was a good day. It always is when we go to the Museum of Flight.
Thank you for listening, jb
The boys weren't moving very quickly because of their sleepover, but I still made them help me get things ready to go. We have a picnic basket that we fill up for outings. We bring it every time we're going anywhere good. The boys filled it with tuna salad, Bing cherries, strawberries, blueberries, a chocolate bar, canteens of water, and cartons of chocolate milk. It was a feast and they dug in before we even got to I-90.
After we got there, we wandered around aimlessly for a bit. I wondered if we'd come too many times, but then we all started to get into it like the people around us. I love seeing people who are excited about aeronautics. We stand, reading placcards about the planes and stare at the elegant engines. We crawl into cockpits to get our pictures taken. We shuffle up to short lines and wait to play the games, landing the space shuttle or the lunar module. It isn't just for kids, though Nick kept landing the space shuttle and I kept crashing it. Go figure.
My favorite part is talking to the docents. Many of them are retired Boeing employees and avid pilots. I can almost see them imagining themselves breaking records and flying in space. Maybe some of them have. They love knowing details. When we told one of them that Adrian liked to spend most of his flight simulator time upside-down, he told us that plane the plane for him would probably have been 'The Newsboy,' an old orange plane with yellow wings. It broke a record for flying upside-down the farthest, going from Los Angeles to San Diego in the 1930s.
We watched Air Force One being polished to a high gloss by volunteers. This isn't the current Air Force One, but the one that took Lyndon B. Johnson to Dallas after JFK was shot and later took Nixon to China. I like looking at the old IBM typewriter on board and imagining myself sitting there to type my next speech. It really is too bad they can't let you sit at the President's desk. That kind of thing is great for kids' minds.
After we looked at freeze-dried food and read about how astronauts relieve themselves in space, Adrian convinced me to go into the flight simulator with him. He's flying better these days, so after waiting nervously in line, it was a relief that we only hung upside-down twice during our run.
Then, the boys decided they were hungry. We always eat at the snack bar and they expected no less this time. My stomach was still recovering from it's back flips, so I went for a simple garden salad. Nick ordered a pulled pork sandwich. Oh man, that thing was good. I ended up mooching, but just a little. Really.
Next, we spent almost an hour negotiating in the gift shop. I understand moms who never dare to enter the gift shop zone. I told the boys that I'd spend $7.00 on each of them and Nick, the master negotiator, spent his whole time asking for a bigger share instead of shopping and getting done. That gift shop really does have some great gifts. In the end, I told Nick that he could take a loan on Friday's allowance. He's good. He's really good. Maybe he should study law some day.
Both boys decided to spend their money at the machine that made dog tags. Adrian's motto was 'You're no good to me if you're dead.' Nick's was 'Better alive than dead.' On the way out, I tried to decide what my motto might be. I'm too old to appreciate anything about being dead. The boys might throw something back at me like 'Use your brain,' or 'Do it now so I don't have to worry about it later.' Nothing else I could think of sounded good, just stuff you'd find carved into a rock or printed on a cookie jar.
On the way home, before the boys fell asleep, they spit cherries out the window. I made them watch traffic so we didn't break any windshields or goober any nice paint jobs.
It was a good day. It always is when we go to the Museum of Flight.
Thank you for listening, jb
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