Holiday Art

When faced with paying admission to a local greenhouse/conservatory

which has always been free,

one of my sons said, "Let's go to the art museum instead!"

REALLY

I had a thrill of surprised satisfaction, but replied, "Sure, if you guys want to."

In the most nonchalant way possible, of course - as if I wasn't excited at all.

And we spent about ninety minutes wandering through galleries, laughing and pointing.

Quizzing the chair sitters* and averting our eyes from 'excessive' immodesty displayed by marble figures.

And that became one of my favorite Christmas memories.

*****

WHAT are those museum employees called anyway? Those who sit on tall chairs, equipped with walkie-talkies and spiffy jacket uniforms. Are they Guards? They don't seem to be Guides, since they also seemed puzzled about the special display of spit art. Are they Monitors - they warn you to step back when you get too close.   I know this.   Insomniacs definitely - who else could possibly stay

awake in a silent, empty room filled with antique art? Maybe there's some sort of contest going on, 

but I've never been able to sneak up on one nodding off ...