more adventures with mom

So, in light of the last post (and because nothing that noteworthy happened to me this week) I have decided to continue chronicling my adventures with mom. This one is from a few years ago on a family vacation, but it is still really funny.

My mother loves museums. This is one of her more irritating hobbies because no one in my family is all that fond of museums. This isn't to say that I don't appreciate them now. But, between the ages of 7-16 I didn't really see the point. And seriously, have you ever tried to drag a little kid or preteen to a museum? Yikes. So, for as long as I can remember, we gave my mother the benefit of the doubt and let her pick where we went on vacation every other year. This ensured at least one fun vacation for the Walter family biannually.
1997 Disney world
1998Chicago
1999 Destin
2001 South Dakota (seriously, worst vacation ever)

Anyway, for the past eight years or so, we all decided that Florida was the only place to go. Everyone loves the beach and we always come away with a lot of great memories. Plus, there's "Vacation Dad." He's my dad's alter-ego and he is the coolest guy ever. So, in order to be fair, we struck a compromise with mom. We would spend one day visiting the Naval Aviation museum in Pensacola. It's the only museum within a 50-mile radius, but it was only an hour away so it seemed like a good deal. And it wasn't bad- the first time. However, the third time or so we visited, I was not a happy camper. Upon entering the building (which hadn't changed since the first time) I knew that it was going to be a long day. And the precarious nature of my bad moods meant that I could pounce at any second. A repeat of South Dakota '01 was fast approaching, and this was not good news. But leave it up to my mom to, once again, sacrifice herself for the good of the group...

Now, as a frequent mueseum-er, she can often get her museums confused. She can't remember where she saw what ancient artifact, or what year, but she can remember exactly what it said on the description in front of the display. So, she talked the whole drive up about something she thought she read, about a new exhibit in the museum. I tuned her out, but if I had actually been listening I could have saved her a lot of embarrassment. Whoops. So we get to the entrance and I was tired of hearing her incessant and excited musings about the new exhibit. She was going to look for it herself but wanting to expedite things and get back to the beach, I snapped at her to go to the front desk and ask the museum guards. They would definitely know. Little did I know what she was going to ask them...

I waited patiently at the entrance and after a few minutes, and many confused museum guards, she turned around and slinked back to the group. When she finally got back, her face was turning a shade of bright pink, and before I could ask her what happened, we hear laughter getting louder by the second. It was coming from the front desk. Now, just to paint a picture, this is either a very low-paying, or completely voluntary position. So everyone behind that desk was pushing 80, maybe even 85. No doubt. And they were all roaring. I mean, doubled over with laughter. I even remember seeing one of them on the phone; it was too funny not to tell his friends. Well, remember how I said that she often got her museums mixed up? She read in the paper about a new submarine exhibit; it would have subs from World War Two, and tons of cool facts about them. So, when she asked the main guard, he did a double-take.

"I'm sorry ma'am. What are you looking for?" he asked her, assuming he heard her wrong.

She then proceeded to explain it to him, going over every detail of the article she had read and adding wild hand gestures to emphasize her point. Needless to say, they were unable to conceal their laughter. He finally calmed down enough to politely explain to this poor, blond tourist that she was currently standing in the front lobby of the Naval Aviation Museum, the Aviation standing for airplanes. He made sure to speak slowly,and use grand hand gestures as this didn't seem to be a bright lady. She quickly realized her colossal mistake, mumbled a weak "thank you" and slipped away. I don't think they stopped laughing the whole time; I even heard a chuckle or two on our way out.

Moral of the story: Always, always, always think before you speak. Also, don't underestimate old people. They are sharper (and meaner) than you think. :)