Hashtag Fail

So we decided to go on an adventure yesterday.

I was getting frustrated by the constant sound of the doorbell ringing and dog barking, and children standing with the door open letting the dog out, and shoes on and off and on and off again, and why are you taking the whole box of granola bars – you just had 3?!

We needed to get out.

So I wrapped up a couple of things for work then announced that we were heading into DC to the Natural History Museum to see the new and improved just re-opened Dinosaur exhibit followed by a super exciting dinner once Daddy got off of work from his summer experience downtown.

Get ready for some fun!

We left at 3:45 with some tears because one kid had a to put a clean shirt on and some tears from another kid who decided because he didn’t know where we were going to dinner, it was probably going to bad.

Come on guys, I’m letting you stay in mesh shorts even though I have a strict “no mesh in museums rule.” Pull it together!

It takes an hour, going opposite of traffic (so we thought), to get downtown and people keep touching each other for no reason the whole way. Griff falls asleep and awakes as we park screaming “I’s dot to go tinkles RIGHT NOW”. There are no tinkle spots nearby and for some reason I seem to think that urinating on the side of the road in the nation’s capital is a federal offense. So we quickly unload the stroller and start power walking to the two blocks to the museum.

Meanwhile Wells, unconcerned with the tinkle emergency and more concerned that he got bribed to put a shirt not covered in easy mac on in exchange for DC Pokemon-Go stops, ends up being one step away from a viral sensation for being the kid who walks straight into a parked car trying to evolve Machomp.

Wells, give me the phone. (Griff still crying, Bennett still pissed we are going to a museum, Cullen still wearing mesh.)

We lug the stroller up backwards two flights of stairs because apparently chivalry, or at least people willing to help a sweating mom in 99 degree heat, is dead. Finally get to the top and pull on the handle for the museum at the same moment the security guard locks the doors.

What? But summer hours! I saw it online – you are open until 7:30!

Look again ma’am… only Thursday – Saturday. All museums on the mall are closing now.

{Griff} BUT I WANT TO SEE DINOSAURS AND I ALREADY TINKLED EVERYWHERE. (Loud crying, so much loud crying, with a clear set of pee pants all the way down to the shoes.)

We lug the stroller back down two flight of stairs and spot the carousel. That will save the day!

Griff – look! We can ride the ride and then you will forget I promised you we were going to see a bunch a dinosaurs! Wells, seriously, how did you get the phone out of my purse? You are going to get run over!

Carousel lady: That will be $27.50

Me: For 4 kids to ride on a stationary animal in a circle?

Carousel lady: Yes. And we only take cash.

Me: F*KJH&^%^^&%

Okay so guys, so carousel is out, but I will get you ice cream before dinner! See? This is so super fun!

{Kate is *this close* to being the lady who also buys the $12 can of bud light from the street vender.}

OK friends, glad you enjoyed your ice cream, let’s keep walking. Daddy is on the way and we can check out this really cool sculpture garden outside of the Museum of Modern Art.

Griff, what are you doing? Why are your cheeks red? Oh please tell me you’re not…

I’s POOPPED! My bad….its in ma un-dies.

Boys – stay there. Don’t touch the art. Griff {gag} please don’t {gag} step in it. We just have to get your undies off {friendly, gagging, wave to tourist walking by}. Okay, put your {already soiled} shorts back on and wait with your brothers while I throw these away.

Walk up path. No trashcan. Look left. No trashcan. Look right. No trashcan. Look down at 4 unchaperoned boys giggling at naked bronze butts and decide poop undies in the bush is less offensive than a sculpture from 1886 getting destroyed.

OK adventure over, let’s go to the car and wait for Daddy.

But Mommy, wait. Can we do a wish on this tree first?

Wow, really good paying attention. What do you want to wish for?

For more Pokemon. For a dinosaur. To be amazing at all sports. To always be happy…

To never have to dispose of human feces in a national art gallery garden ever again.


So we left some poop in a bush and ended up with Dominos and a 6 pack at home instead of a hip DC dinner, but our adventure fail ended up being a memory worth recording.

Cheers as always to questionable parenting, y’all!

5 thoughts on “Hashtag Fail

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