Having done the Smithsonians we spent the weekend on extremely artistic pursuits, namely a trip to The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts. Various of our number went to see Grug and the Rainbow while me and Sheila got a tour. We had to babysit 1-yr-old Oscar while his elder siblings went to the play, which thoroughly confused the tour guide Susan when I tried to explain the familial connections.
Anyway, the Center is a treasure trove of sculpture and art as well as housing seven different theatres. Most things inside were gifts to the US in the wake of Kennedy's assassination, with chandeliers from Sweden and Norway, lounges decorated by Israel, Russia and China...it was endless. We also got to peek into the Presidential boxes, now replete with photos of Trump. "There's one from the inauguration," I commented. "How big's the crowd?" our tour guide shot back cheekily.
How could we beat such high culture for their final day? By going the other way, of course, with lunch at The Cheesecake Factory and a stop at Chuck E. Cheese (aka hell) where Pete has wanted to take Grandma for a very long time. Hopefully it doesn't put her and Sheila off any return trips...
Ultimate power.
Or is that here? American government is so weird.
At the Kennedy Center - photo (and extra kids) courtesy of Amanda.
Three generations of wild things.
Inside. A little larger than The Merlin Theatre where Sheila regularly volunteers.
Two households, both alike in dignity (well, almost).
Nearly a tree hugger.
Generations.
The happiest place on earth!
Management eventually asked Hannah to let the waiting kids have a go.
Oooooh yes! My reward for tour guiding.
Sheila: unimpressed.
