Back At The Children’s Museum

Their train set is considerably fancier than ours. (Ryan's shirt was a casualty of our water bottle within five minutes of entering the building.)

Ryan helped to decorate my face in the makeup department of the theater. It occurs to me occasionally how little I worry about dignity now that I have kids.

Theoretically the scale in the digging pit is for driving trucks onto. But it can also weigh Ryans.

Nathan dove right in to the water section this time. On his first few visits, he'd refused to even enter the room.

Ryan took a little longer to acclimate, and refused to wear a smock. But eventually he got his metaphorical feet wet. And his literal arms.


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