Annabelle :: Mom, are you thinking about the lady? Your friend with the long hair?
Me :: (putting the card game down and looking at her) Who?
Annabelle :: Riding the shell boat with all the flowers.
Me :: The shell boat?
Annabelle :: Yes, and she needs the warm blankey.
Me :: A lady with long hair riding a shell boat with a blankey?
Annabelle :: Yes! All naked on her body!
(long pause, Annabelle waiting with anticipation and me incredulous at what I believe she is describing...)
Me :: Annabelle, are you talking about Venus?
Annabelle :: YES! (and then she runs off to play in the doll section of the store)
I ended up buying the card game for our trip. And tonight, as I unwrapped the game from its packaging I noticed the absolute smallest picture of Botticelli's painting on the back of the box, not even half as big as my pinky nail.
She must have recognized it, even in all it's blurried resemblance on the package. But more than that, she knows the painting!
It reminds me of last year, right before she turned three years old, when I found her marking up my calendar with a pen she found. She had climbed up on my craft table, taken it down from the wall, found herself a black marker, and then scribbled on every single month of the calendar.
I had chosen the calendar because it featured the art of an artist I was interested in learning more about. Well, I went through the calendar with her and explained that it belonged to mommy and then I asked why she wrote all over it. She exclaimed, "But I love Renoir!"
What do you say to that?
One of the things that I am most looking forward to in California are the museums. Specifically, taking Annabelle to the museums. Family days to San Francisco's Legion of Honor. Or MOMA. Or the all new de Young (!) that was being remodeled the entire time I lived in the city. I relish the thought of showing Annabelle my favorites among the permanent collections... and hearing her words.
We have a sweet, small, museum in Eugene that we've gone to a few times. During our last visit I was relieved that there were practically no other visitors there because Annabelle talked nonstop about everything she saw: "Look at that funny dress- a silly goose dress! His ears are SO LONG! (insert hysterical cackling) What's WRONG with that man's face? That bear is a scary monster! Why are there THREE trees? Look at that crazy lady!" and on, and on, and on.
It was the fastest museum tour I've ever taken, punctuated by reading the "Please Do Not Touch" signs.
Annabelle :: Can I touch this? No? What does this sign say?
Me :: Please do not touch.
Annabelle :: Oh. Can I touch THAT? What does THAT sign say?
Me :: Please do not touch.
Annabelle :: What about THIS sign?
Me :: That one also says Please Do Not Touch.
Annabelle :: WHY? What about this sign over here? What does this one say?
Me :: Honey, they all say the same thing.
Annabelle :: What?
Me :: Please Do Not Touch
Annabelle :: But I WANT TO TOUCH. Why do they all say that? What about that one waaaaay over there? What does that one say?
Me :: That one also says Please Do Not Touch
Annabelle :: Why?
(Repeat)
Is it possible to be too young to visit museums? I don't know. But even with the unfortunate warnings against touching, Annabelle really loves it and talks about it for days afterward. And after a couple weeks asks to go back again.
I will always remember taking her through the King Tutankhamun exhibit at LACMA at three months old, sitting on a bench in a dark corner, nursing her and staring in awe at all the shining gold and glistening treasures. That same exhibit is in San Francisco now and I think we'll have to make it our first excursion after we get settled. It will be so wonderful to share it with her for a second time!
