So often I want to respond to a thread, but find that I can’t articulate my feelings well. During those times I sometimes find a response that says it well and I’m stuck just saying “ditto.” This is one of those times. Ditto.
I think this post sums things up rather well. I also applaud Lissa for caring about this child.
Hmm. At this point, I concede that upon further reflection due to various posters, an explanation of the kind I prefer could not have been done by most people in any reasonable amount of time.
Guinastasia I wasn’t talking about ‘sh*t happening’. I was talking about rules.
“If something bad happens and you get hurt, the police would close the museum forever.” Short, and (mostly) to the point, in 5 year oldese. (“police”, of course, filling in for “our legal system.”) It does invite a “why” of course, but all questions at that age do.
But it took me reading through this whole thread in the comfort of my own office, with no pleading child eyes ripping my heart out, to think of it.
Feel free to use/adapt it next time you see him, Lissa. FTR, I think you did just fine in the time and space you were in.
WhyNot Where were you before I conceded?
Oh well, let’s all just forget the boy and re-imagine the scenario with little Mindy and her dog, Buttons.
“What’s iss, museum lady?”
“Please, call me Ms Lissa, or Ma’am, or Docent, but not museum lady.”
“Okay museum lady. What’s iss?”
“It’s a whipping post. They used to tie people to it and whip them.”
“Why?”
“Because they broke the law.”
“Why?”
“Because they were bad people.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t settle the issue of nature versus nurture.”
“Why?”
“Because that would require human experimentation.”
“Okay. I love you museum lady. Buhbye!”
-cough- or his father, who contrary to popular myth might actually not be in jail for selling crack, sacked out drunk on the sofa or absent from his lifecompletely. Imagine??? A father who gives a shit. :dubious:
My parents took my brother and I ever Saturday morning for quite a few years to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia. This was entirely my father’s idea, by the way.We attended some classes on the upper floors that were informative AND incredibly fun. I don’t remember any facts I learned. I suspect that wasn’t the point. The point- which helped to form my way of dealing with the world I live in- was to question things, to learn how things work and why they have to work that way. That level of inquisitiveness is not always innate, but must be nurtured sometimes. I’m lucky they wanted to nurture it.
I got on and off of four airplanes in the last 6 days. When I was in line at the point where the gateway ( “ramp” ) meets up with the airframe itself, and you step into the cabin, for some reason I looked at the rivets. Man, there’s a ton of em. All of then perfectly flush with the skin of the airframe.
I remembered that nifty line in “The Aviator”, that has Howard Hughes saying that he needs the rivets to be smooth, flush with the skin, to get rid of vibration and make the planes go faster. He was right, of course.
What did going to museums give to me? The connections between touching the skin of an aircraft, and that stupid little bit from a movie that told me that it was Hughes who pushed for completely smooth airframe skins. The word “why?” is the most powerful one in the vocabulary of a child, IMHO.
Lissa, the very fact that you wrote this OP tells me that you will find the appropriate way to let that young man in, and show him the amazing world you have to show him. Parent, guardian, teacher- someone who is legally allowed to escort that boy, will find a brochure stuffed into their hands courtesy of you, through him.
Never underestimate the astonishing impact visits like those you give every day have on children. 
Cartooniverse
What if his parents don’t want him going to the museum? This could get him in trouble.
Hmmm. Good point, Monica. ( we double posted, I did not see your post when I Previewed ).
I only suggest this since the boy apparently lives two doors down. If he shows up again, and let us say you get off of work at 6:00 pm, as him, " are Mom or Dad or Gramma or Grandpa or Uncle or Auntie home at 6:00 tonight? ". Let us not assume the worst. Let’s assume the best for once- if you rang their bell and explained how delightful it was that he was so interested, they might be mighty proud of him for showing interest. Invite them all to come in and take a first-class tour.
Sometimes… a situation isn’t always the absolute worst imaginable. Sometimes it’s just fine, but his incessant requests to be taken are sloughed aside because he’s just the baby.
Tell the kid that!
How much is the fee?
Bup To a five year-old, third grade is about as far away as, oh, the sun running out of fuel is to us.
I hope you mean you’ll either mail a brochure to his house or stick the brochure in a door handle. Only the employees of the United States Postal Service and the residents of a domicile have any legal right to place anything inside said domicile’s mailbox. It’s the law, doncha know.
Why?
Ooh, ooh! I knew that!
Ten buck, and it pays for admission to three or four of such programs a year.
I knew that, but am so used to seeing it flouted that I didn’t think of it. My mailbox gets plenty of fliers, notices that Monica down the street is selling cookies for Girl Scouts, that the Friends of the Library are having their book sale next Saturday and if I read this prayer aloud, I have been SAVED! along with my regular mail. I occasionally see people walking along the street, stuffing them in boxes as they go, completely oblivious to the fact that they’re committing acts of criminal depravity.
It’s a commonly ignored law in these parts, but now that I’ve been reminded, I’ll take the high road and put it in his door, perhaps with a nice little note. I don’t think his mother will mind that he was at a museum because a co-worker told me today that a woman living in that house had stopped by our research library a couple of months ago to try to find out more about the history of it. So, she has at least some curiosity about history.
I’ve decided what I’ll do is put a brochure, two free passes and a little note saying that we’d love to have her come back and bring the kids. (The two passes would cover herself and her husband; the kids would be free.)