Saturday was Curious George’s birthday, and what better way to celebrate than to go down to the Boston Public Library and hang out at his party? We thought it would be a great event for the whole family to attend…but Maggie thought otherwise. Five minutes of screaming (from a baby that rarely screams) was enough to cause us to leave her at home with Mimi (Betsy’s mom). Instead, it was like “the old days”, with Mom, Dad, and little (or not so little) Sophie.
We finally have a working elevator at the Community College station on the “T”. I wondered what took so long (it was supposed to be finished two years ago), but then read that it was part of the Central Artery Project. Insert your obligitory comment about cost overruns and elongated schedules here.
The family took the “T” over to the Library, hoping to take part in the Birthday Cake that was made by Ming Tsai. We got to the room where the celebration was being held, and it was obvious we were way late. It was a madhouse….kind of like a children’s birthday party. With hundreds of kids. In one room. There was even a camera crew taping the event. We did find some cake, but it was my least favorite kind – floor cake.
Luckily, there were some fun things to do. We got our picture taken with Curious George and the Man With the Yellow Hat (or, as Sophie calls him, “Yellow Man” – there are days I wished I would spend more time with that guy). She talked up Curious George and “Yellow Man” the whole way. For three hours before we left. During the train ride. During the walk to the library. Etc, etc etc.
Until she saw them. Curious George was larger than “Yellow Man”, and “Yellow Man” was taller than I am. Actually (as someone else in line put it), “Yellow Man” looked like a jockey ready to ride CG at Saratoga. Sophie’s excitement turned to pure fear, especially since dad was bringing her over to these giants.
I found out yesterday that Sophie’s “death grip” is pretty strong. I blocked her view of the creatures so we could get our picture taken. As you can see, she has fear in her eyes. I am just hoping to get one more breath of air before being choked by the death grip.
The best part was that after a half hour of running around the room she became comfortable enough to say, “Hi George!” to CG, but only from 10 feet away. Once I tried to bring her any closer, her pincers closed in on my neck.
The moral of the story – Showing up fashionably late to a party only works if the invitation list is less than 600,000 people.
A second moral – Storybook characters are better left there.