One of the highlights of our day in Boston was visiting the Boston Children's Museum. It is three floors full of hands on fun specifically geared for the kiddos. And the best part, on Friday nights starting at 5:30, admission is only $1!!
The kids had so much fun!
While we were there, we ran into a couple of college students that were that were participating in a study on children and emotions. One of them asked if John could sit a play a game with them. He seemed interested, so we sat down and the college student (whose name I don't remember so we are going to call her Mary) explained the game to John.
Basically, John had a piece of paper in front of him with a black square and a white square on it. Mary showed him a little picture of a stick figure and said, "This is Mr. Stickman and when he feels happy he goes over here on this white square. But when he feels bad, he goes over here on the black square." And she showed him how to do it. Easy enough.
And John cooperated the first two times Mary asked him to show her where to put Mr. Stickman. And then he decided to shake things up a bit.
Mary said, "John Mr. Stickman feels happy. Show me where Mr. Stickman goes when he feels happy."
John gave a devilish little laugh and said, "Nooo. He feels too bad!" And then John put Mr. Stickman on the black square. Mary corrected him and then said, "John, now Mr. Stickman feels bad. Where does he go when he feels bad?" To which my contrary son replied, "He not so bad!" And then John placed Mr. Stickman on the white square.
John continued to do the opposite of what Mary asked, laughing all the while, for several more rounds before saying, "All done" and hopping down.
Mary smiled at me and said "He is just too smart for me! And so verbal for his age!"
I think that is research study-ese for "Your son is a total smart a55 and he just spent 5 minutes screwing with me. Thanks!"
He is quite a little turkey. But so cute!
After leaving the Museum, we took the subway back to the Prudential Center. Libby was super pumped about riding the "underground train." I think she was expecting something along the lines of Space Mountain. Needless to say, she was sorely disappointed!
A few days later, she was still reeling from her disillusionment. She said to me, "They really should call that underground train dirty, unfun, smells bad, trash cans everywhere stupid train!"
I stifled a laugh and said, "Yeah, but for short most people just call it the subway."
She thought about that for a moment and then said, "Mommy, is subway Spanish for dirty, underground train."
I said yes.