At the museum one gets to hear a lot of things.
Like this one time a strange fellow was telling people about Patty Picasso. Some of the things aren’t so fun. For instance a dad saying to his teen daughter:
“pay attention to this stuff because this is real art unlike writing.”
This isn’t one of the bad ones though. This one has monsters. The night was slowing down and the galleries were emptying. The main doors to the first floor galleries opened up slowly. Then it stopped. A kid of about 6 or so stood there. Half in and half out. Frozen. There was a look of complete horror on his face.
(Don’t even make the joke. I was off in the corner and he didn’t see me.)
Meanwhile he’s trying to back up. His mom would not let him. He’s starting to whine. “Go in honey” she says. “Nooooo” he starts to push back. “Monsters” he yells. She pushes him in and he yells “There are monsters!”
She gets down on one knee to explain to him that there aren’t monsters in here. He’s looking at me now and I’m thinking make a scary face at him. I don’t do it though.
(Wouldn’t be too hard to make a scary face.)
“There are No monsters in here honey” she says calmly. “None?” He looks at me.
I whisper “Yes there are” I smile reassuringly. He’s calm now. They walk around a bit. It turns out he WANTS to see some monsters. I’m not sure his definition of a monster because I’m pretty sure he was pointing at a spoon. Whatever. They peruse the galleries and end up in the early Christian stuff.
As they start to exit the mom asks what his favorite “monster” was. He says that one and points.
This is what it was:
Icon of the Mother of God and Infant Christ (Virgin Eleousa)
And then this happened:
Mom: Honey that isn’t a monster that is Jesus.
Kid: He’s the scariest one of all.
And then lightning struck and we all died. Or I hoped they’d leave the gallery so I could laugh.