This weekend my niece, Madison, made an interesting request. She wanted to go see dinosaur bones.
Yes. Three years old. Her desire: dinosaur bones.
So, we drove to Alexandria, picked up James the ultimate tour guide, and headed to the National Museum of National History.
When we got there, Madison studies the exhibits. Looked at the skeletons, and was in awe at their teeth. She saw a T-Rex and was pleased to see while he had big teeth, he didn’t have hands that could grab.
When I asked her which were her favorite dinosaurs, she quickly answered, “the dead ones.”
She explained in a little more detail. Allow me to elaborate in a more adult vocabulary.
Basically the reason we had made this trek was to assure that:
1. The dinosaurs were, in fact, dead.
2. That many of them were in “cages” (which she called the glass show cases).
3. And most importantly, they were behind ropes that said “do not cross.”
With this first hand witnessing of the evidence, she could now sleep well at night, not to be haunted by the monsters she’s seen in her children’s book.
Smart kid.
Next week I intend to go visit the department of taxation…