un excursion

I accompanied B on his class field trip the other day. I figure my days are numbered before he dies of embarrassment to have me around. We trekked over to the Geological Museum, which may have been fun if I cared about rocks and may have been interesting if I understood more Spanish, but alas... "exploda" and "planeta" were the extent of my comprehension. And unless it's kryptonite, rocks don't do it for me.

Though they did play this one definitely-made-in-Mexico introductory video that tried to showcase time going backwards - including a 5-second rewind of a baby birth. Full frontal view of baby going back in mom. Huh. It unsettled me in context of the twenty-five 6-year-olds also watching, but maybe that's just my conservative American ethos talking.

My thoughts exactly, B.



When we first drove up to the museum, there was a large pile of trash on the sidewalk to welcome us. No trashcans in sight. At least they try to keep it all in one area, no?



Can you spot the Spaniard? Hint: He's flashing a peace sign and wearing a tight, long-sleeved sweater. European niños have flair.



B's teacher, Miss Claudia (on the right).



Discussing meteor rocks. I was beginning to lose consciousness by this point.



The making of fossils was the only exciting part.









Despite the yawn-fest, hearing B speak Mexican-accented Spanglish with his amigos made the trip. He'll be fluent in no time. So jealous.



B, have I told you yet today how much I love you?



I do.