I end up being horribly embarrassed. We end up in a big fight and we come home more miserable than when we left. You have to promise me that this isn't going to happen this time.
I wasn’t sure what to say about our Members’ Nite at the Field Museum. It was a good experience, but it defied description...until I was watching The Simpsons the other night. The above quote is from Marge in the episode in which the family plans a trip to Itchy and Scratchy Land. That about says it all.

Not that it wasn’t a worthwhile time. Just not the time I had envisioned. And I had been envisioning this for about a year, since I saw a news feature showing excited families tramping through the taxidermy rooms at the Field. For starters, I was far more psyched than the rest of my party. One of the boys really, really didn’t want to go. (This was not the same boy who once had a melt-down out of fear of being locked in the museum, so you could say we are making progress.) I had planned this for them and I sensed they were going to make me happy. And the evening went well once we achieved a certain happiness/suffering equilibrium.

The areas that I thought would be the most fascinating for the boys left them with feelings of claustrophobia and a generalized dread. Familial fear of elevators led to an exaccerbation of Dad’s achy knee. (Coming down from the 4+ floor staff area felt like a descent into the Paris Metro - one flight of stairs after another. The alternative - a ride in a freight elevator - was too horrible, even by my standards.)

My favorite thing was the bug room (Embot says she’ll take me back there again when her friend the entomologist unveils the wasp that he is naming for her.) I’m not too crazy about insects, but they looked exquisitely gemlike when mounted in cases. There were live bugs, too. I decided to face my fears and held the tarantula. It was friendly, non-threatening and as velvety as Eddie’s head right after I buzz him. My sister had a tarantula about thirty years ago and the most interaction I had with it was to constantly check to make sure it was still in its tank. The big millipede would have been interesting to touch, too, but there was too much of a crowd.

Watching the ‘replication’ department work on a diorama was like something out of A Night in the Museum...just without Owen Wilson. I could have stayed there much longer,but I had broken the number one field trip rule (Wandered off!) and needed to find my group.

Too bad we didn’t bring a camera. It would have been nice to have my picture taken standing in front of the Ellen Smith Memorial Hall of Birds. Easily the most boring part of the tour, Mrs. Smith’s memorial is a huge room of padlocked lockers for dead birds. But there is always that cheap thrill of seeing one’s name above the entrance to a room (even if the spelling is a bit off).

It would have been easier to keep track of everyone if we had worn our official orange shirts. I failed to think of this unitl I ran across the family in the lime green shirts. Highly visible. I kept finding the ‘limes’ but my own group evaded me. No one was lost for long. Another plus to our evening. Along with no fainting, swooning, panicking or dangerously excessive profuse perspiration.

A good time nonetheless. Educational, too, I’m sure. And when we had worn out our energy (physical and psychic) it was time to head back to the car. And not a moment too soon. I was so exhausted from the effort of staying calm and educational that I attempted to insert a BlockBuster gift card into the machine that processes parking tickets. Many thanks to the people at the machine next to me for not laughing. Too much.

Yesterday’s mail brought a most tempting membership invitation from the Museum of Science and Industry. I’ll think about it. Andyou have to promise me that this isn't going to happen this time.