As good and dutiful parents, it is our job to expose our son to the broadest education we can manage.
I can announce with pride that he managed the Nirvana gallery at the EMP in Seattle without announcing boredom, displeasure or ingratitude.
Moreover, he did indeed stand and listen to more than two songs from the Pixies and Butthole Surfers, and furthermore, did sit quietly engaged in a grunge multi-media timeline detailing Nirvana's rise to fame from the Pacific Northwest music scene of the late 80s', thus allowing his ageing parents to listen to even more Pixies, REM, Butthole Surfers, DOA and those of their ilk until they felt their youth had indeed been recaptured.
He also put up with a stroll through the horror exhibit, which included the scene where the alien splashes out of John Hurt's stomach, and occasionally shared our nostalgia as we sauntered through the Icons of SciFi gallery.
We try to raise him well.
grappling with career, balance and midlife in the midst of the domestic scene
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Seattle, baby!
Seattle, baby!
2012-12-29T23:18:00-08:00
pomomama