Ok...not really...but it's a fun story...
This morning Mr. Goose Poop called me from work to tell me that he heard on the radio that the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum had free admission today. And that maybe it'd be something fun to do with the kids since it is a rainy, yucky day.
I hmmmm'd and haw'd about it for an hour or so. I figured it'd be really busy being free and Spring Break and all. I almost didn't do it. Then I thought, what the hell, let's go do something.
I decided to put all the kids in their U of M Goose Poop sweatshirts. That way if the museum was super busy it's be way easier to spot my own crew.
I'd never been to that museum before, so I didn't know where to go or what to expect. We got the last parking spot in their free lot, and I was thinking to myself, maybe today wasn't such a good day to come. I'd rather have paid the $20 to get us in on a different, not so busy day, than have to wrangle 6 kids from jumping on the couches in the Oval Office, or trying to hop in Mr. Ford's Navy Helicopter that I heard was in there.
But away we went!
The lobby was busy, but not too out of control to make me turn around right then and there. Come to find out, today is Mrs. Betty Ford's birthday, and that was why admission was free today. They told us they were serving birthday cake to the first 500 people to enter, and there might still be some left. I'm thinking..."might" still be some left?!? It's 10:00 in the morning, and they are almost out of 500 pieces of cake?! Great!
But away we went!
I was noticing people staring at us. I tried to ignore them. I figured Tyler was probably picking his nose again, or Carter's butt crack was saying hello to everyone behind him like it always is! Haven't they ever seen a 3 year old pick his nose before? Or a kid who's butt is so flat not ever elastic waist pants stay up? I was about to give this old man a dirty look, when he approached us. I open my mouth to tell Tyler to use a tissue and gently let Carter know he's gotta give his pants a hike again...but that old man smiled and said, "If you don't mind me asking...what are the shirts about?" Oh yea, we were that dorky family so big we put all our kids in matching shirts so we don't loose one! Now I'm beginning to regret my decision to put us all in our Goose Poop sweatshirts.
Was that sarcasm in his voice? Was he about to make some rude comment? I'm trying to come up with a great come-back for when he does. I tell him that I'm a bloggy mom, and our last name is Goostrey, and my awesome mother in law made us these sweatshirts in honor of my site, and blah blah blah. And what you old fart? You got a problem with that?!? Ok, I didn't say that, but I sooo wanted to!
He said he's never seen a greater looking group of well behaved kids! I looked over my shoulder...was he talking to me? Was he talking about my kids? Couldn't be! Nahhh...
But he totally was! He was talking about my kids! Next thing I know, there is a small circle forming around us. Everybody looking at us, checking out our sweatshirts, saying how cool they are, and what a great idea, and the kids look so cute in them.
Ok ok people, we're not a freaky side show here. Stop your staring! We say our thank you's, that's every nice of you's, and what not's.
And away we went!
I tell myself we're going to steer clear of the cake table. My kids don't need cake anyway. Besides, they'd be the one's smearing it all over the piece of Berlin Wall that is next to the table and chairs. But, of course, the cake table is riiiiiight next to the steps we have to go up to get to the exhibits. Great!
"Mom, can we have cake?"
"Yea, we want some cake!"
"Mom, please can we?"
"C'mon mom! Can we get some?"
You see, when I have all the kids out, I don't usually like to partake in these types of things. I always think people are thinking to themselves how we are taking up too much space, or taking too many pieces of cake, or what have you. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but truth be told, it makes me uncomfortable.
And then the little old lady, who didn't know my kids would be the one's smearing it all over the Berlin Wall, asked if the kids would like some cake.
Thanks little old lady! What was I supposed to do now? Be the mean mom who says "NO?" And then I heard myself say "Sure, that'd be great! Thanks!" Whhaaattt???
And away we went...to the cake table!
There were 3 nice ladies (I'm aloud to call them that, I'm half way to being a little old lady myself!) serving cake. I told the kids to make sure they use their manners, walk up to the table and ask for a piece of cake. They walk to the serving table, and ask politely for a piece of cake.
And then it happens again. People are swarming to them. The ladies are gawking at them. Then I see two security guards walk up to them. Oh great...Tyler probably told one of them to shut their pie hole's again (yes, again. It's a story for another day!! But it's true, he's taken to telling people to shut their pie holes because he thinks he heard our pastor, in church one day, say that's what the bible says!! Anyway, another day for that story!)!! Or Cater was pretending to blow the place up again! He's very into explosives lately, and you can regularly catch him pretending to blow things up with his pretend finger guns!
I have a decision to make. I know I'm going to take a run for it. But am I going to make a run for it to the nearest exit and let the kids fend for themselves? Do I want to be blamed for Tyler's potty mouth or Carter's obsession with explosives? Or am I going to make a run for it over to my kids and politely explain that they must have misunderstood Tyler, I'm certain he said "Mmm, pie? Nope, cake..yummm!!" Or that weird explosive noise out of Carter was just a sneeze! "Bless You Dear!!"
Go ahead...give me the Mother of the Year award...cuz I opted to go support my kids. I know, running would have been easier. But I did the right thing, I'm certain of it.
I get to the table, getting ready to open my mouth to explain something I have yet to know, and the ladies asked if these were all my kids. Again, I have a decision to make. Lie?? "No, I adopted them from Cambodia yesterday! They aren't house trained yet. We're getting to that! Sorry!" Or claim the little heathens?? "Yea, you got a problem with that punk?? They may be a little much sometimes, but jeez...no need to call security on them!" Again, Mother of the Year award here...I claimed them! Though not in such a rude manner. I think I turned 14 shades of red, then said something along the lines of, "Yes they are, sorry, they just wanted a piece of cake." And started to pull them away. **Insert the uncomfortable/embarrassing feeling here**
But the little old ladies fawned over them, saying how cool their sweatshirts were. And the security guards asked them to turn around so they could see too. Actually, I think I'm insulting them when I call them "security guards" because I'm fairly certain they are actually FBI Agents!! No joke...I mean we are at the president's museum, where by the way, the late President Ford himself is buried. So, anyway, I'm sure they are the FBI. Or wait...is it CIA? What does CIA stand for? Well, they were those guys wearing black suits, black sun glasses (no joke here), a badge on their chest, with the little wire going to their ear. What ever *those* people are called is what they were. Anyway, they are all going nuts over my kids.
Everyone kept telling me how cool their shirts were, what a great idea it was. And that President Ford was a H.U.G.E University of Michigan fan. He would have loved it. On and on and on they went! Finally, I was just trying to shy away, cuz lets face it, I also get a little uncomfortable when people go over the top on how cool my family is.
When one of the ladies serving cake asked if they could take a picture of us. I told her sure, that would be alright. So she snapped a picture, then two, then three. On and on about how cool they looked.
Then she asked if I would be willing to let the museum's photographer take a picture of them. That they would love to use it as a marketing picture! I said quietly said sure. I mean, by now, a crowd is gathering around the cake table. I don't know if they were there to see us, or if people were just backed up waiting for cake since the ladies were fawning over my kids so much they stopped serving the cake!!
One of the security guards/FBI Agents/CIA dudes starts talking into his shirt with one hand over his ear. I swear I heard him say "Ten-four, over and out!" but maybe it was just my imagination!! Next thing I know, the museum's photographer is front and center positioning my kids in front of the cake table snapping pictures. Asking people behind them to please back up so they aren't in the photo also. Great, I get the feeling from they guy in the back giving me the evil ka-nevil eye that these people are going to hunt me down once we finally make it into the museum, and beat my up behind the replica of Ford's desk in the Oval Office. Wonderful!
Once their photo shoot is done, one of the worker ladies asks for my name and phone number. I give it to her. She says she will call once they decide how to use the photos to let me know so I can see them too! That it can be either on their website, their monthly newsletter, or on their tri-fold pamphlets.
How cool is that? I wanted to get the same pictures the photographer was getting, but judging by the crowd that was around the cake table by the time this whole ordeal was over, they weren't up for waiting another moment while I got a good shot for my blog.
So I scooted the kids over to the side, and just took a picture of them by the wall, before they got their cake!
Two and three....three orange foam bullets...aht aht aht!
Four...Four orange foam bullets...aht aht aht!
Five...Five orange foam bullets...aht aht aht!!
One...one red round of cap gun bullets...aht aht aht!
Seven...Seven orange foam bullets...aht aht aht!
Seven...Seven orange foam bullets...aht aht aht!
It's hard to get a picture of the stripes, but trust me, they're there! And the look like a little piece of awesome-ness!!
