I hate them in general, and the one in Houston is the absolute bane of my existence. Even so, we go fairly regularly (because I like it when she smiles), and Sydney loves it. While there, I suck it up and allow the venue to destroy my psychological and emotional core for an hour or so, and then we leave before I get too bad of a headache. It's a trial.
Today, I got peer-pressured into taking Sydney and Lydia, and Andrea and Ryan, to the children's museum. But when we got there this afternoon, there was plenty of parking in the covered parking lot. There was no one in line ahead of us for tickets. And more chilling, there was hardly anyone in the main lobby. And then, there was only a small amount of people in the museum itself.
I was confused. Disoriented. The environment was cool in temperature, relatively quiet in noise, and spacious with few people. It was like being in an entirely new place. I looked around, confused and intrigued. Was this really the children's museum? It almost seemed ... pleasant.
We spent more than two hours there, and the girls checked out every corner of the place, and investigated each display, activity and project space. I didn't have a single moment of, "ohmygod, someone get me out of this disastrous place and may I have a margarita please."
Because of that, I think this may be the last time we go to the children's museum in Houston. It was entirely too lovely of a visit. I wouldn't want to sully this experience by having another that will return my thinking to what it was before. Even though I know this was an anomaly.
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