I tried to verbalize to Rachel what it was that I missed so much about taking the T daily (I had been working downtown as a consultant, but was laid-off during my maternity leave). I suppose it constantly reminded me that I am part of a larger civilization. I had to share space with the rest of greater Boston's commuting humanity - come face to face with their quirks, their smells, their voices. We had to treat one another during that time with mutual respect and consideration; often it was even kindness. This is what some people hate about public transport. I say those people - the ones sitting solitary in their climate-controlled cars during rush-hour, and for whom public parks are never as good as one's own fenced-in private yard - have lost a little bit of their humanity. But then I'm prone to hyperbole.
The museum was hoppin' for a weekday. Their dedicated "Play Space" for children under 3 was filled with moms and nannies and their charge, and smelled not-vaguely like poop and pee. In the small infant area, for kids who can't yet walk, most everything was padded, and the walls were mirrored. Emmett ogled the surely-stressed fish in the plexiglass tank, and was nearly swallowed-up by the weird waterbed thingy...but mostly he and Eleanor fought over the cool toys that a thousand other kids before them had pawed and drooled on. It had to be great for their immune systems.
1 comment:
This is an amazing account, honey. I wish I had been there to experience it with you two! Love, Chad
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