Weekends at the Met

Recently, Elliot, my five year old son, and I have been going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with some frequency. Maybe three times in the last five weeks. I wish I could say it was all about the art. Elliot loves the Samurai knights in the Arms & Armour rooms. Because he's obsessed with death, he loves the Egyptian "cases" and mummies, and he loves going through any of the fancy rooms either in the European wing or in the new American one. But, if I'm being honest, there's no trip to the Met that's complete without a trip to the cafeteria, and a trip to the cafeteria means two things: Taxi cab lunch of chicken nuggets, French fries and apple juice, and dessert. Often dessert is half of a frosting-filled chocolate cupcake (half because even I sometimes set limits), or it might be a sugar cookie. Saturday Elliot was disappointed that they didn't have any of the American flag sugar cookies that they had on our last visit (and which he couldn't have because he'd already had that cupcake), but the cookie with the weird black and blue design more than made up for it. I suppose it's not the end of the world, this ritualized interaction with artful objects and baked goods. We both enjoy it and the bus ride to and from the museum is awfully nice. In a better food world, Elliot would have a piece of fruit and a sandwich instead of the deep fried, sugarful extravaganza he now thinks of as synonymous with great works of art and fine craftsmanship. But, for now, all I can say is, what the heck! We have fun. And when he gets home, he usually has a banana.