The Museum was much what I thought it would be - a mess of sticky-fingered kids running around with exhausted-looking parents in tow. But really, it was a blast. There's nothing like the pure, unadulterated joy of a three-year-old donning a hard-hat and sitting on a pretend Bobcat or chucking basketballs against the wall.
While in the cockpit of the airplane in the Arthur & Friends Exhibit, my son was waiting in line behind Neve and Beckett O'Brien, daughter and son of Brookline native and late-night talk show host Conan O'Brien, who was standing right next to me, imploring his son to give the other kids a turn at piloting the plane. Conan is just as tall, just as thin, and just as red-haired as he appears on television. I half-expected to him to bust out with his infamously bad Irish accent or tell a joke. (In my opinion, that guy is one of the funniest MF'ers around.) But he was just a dad, spending the day with his wife and kids at the Children's Museum. I resisted the urge to ask for a photo, as no one else seemed to recognize him or, if they had, were respectfully leaving him alone. And I didn't want to be THAT girl. I was so excited to have spotted him that I quickly found DG playing Tic-Tac-Toe in the next room with her nephew and informed her that Conan O'Brien' was there with his kids and his wife, who, by the way, is beautiful.
"Who the heck is Conan O'Brien?" she asked, the worst buzz-kill for a gossip.
Oh well.
The rest of the trip proved to be fun, but exhausting as Braedan had a mini-meltdown in the Construction Zone after our late ABP lunch. (No nap, you see.) As a result, a promised visit to the Museum souvenir store did not come to fruition. And a major meltdown once we got home justified my decision even further.
Anyway, some pics.
(You can see the meltdown is coming)
(Braedan and Auntie DG)
