My son is adorable. He'll turn 5 this weekend, if he lives that long.
When you're used to dashing off to work every day, dealing with grownups who are, for the most part, logical and interesting even when they're assholes, kids seems great. You see them about 2 hours a day, during which you are either getting them dressed, feeding them, bathing them, cuddling them, or cursing them for not going to sleep. And, you know, weekends, when you realize just why you are so grateful to the fabulous daycare and preschool teachers.
For the last two weeks, it's been nonstop parenting. Every day, all day long, with brief intermissions for traumatic visits to the vet to visit our dying cat (she's fine now) or try to find a single fucking coffee place that isn't Starbucks.
Which is why I was so delighted to discover that Cleveland has a Natural History Museum with real (ok, also simulated) dinosaur skeletons. If there's one thing guaranteed to entrance a small boy for a couple hours, it's dinosaurs, right?
Turns out the problem with exposing The Kid to so many great CGI dinosaur specials before he gets the difference between TV and reality is that bones are boring, compared to seeing them walking around and chasing the host. He did pull a little Ross Geller and start leading us on a tour of the exhibits, telling Bad Cohen and me everything he knew about the animals depicted. He knows a lot.
Anyone with ideas for turning this vast store of knowledge into something that he can use to entertain himself for a few minutes so I can actually unpack or maybe read the news in peace, please write. Please. I'm begging you.