During the planning stages of our Pennsylvania extravaganza, I mentioned to The Diva that we’d be super close to Washington DC and how about we spend a day there? As soon as the words left my mouth, the holy crap what have I done feeling set in, but with her eyes lit up like I was the Mother of the Century, I wasn’t about to back out. And so began my planning of our one day in DC. Yep, one day. I had lost my mind.
After what turned out to be a less than harrowing drive to the Shady Grove metro station (Dallas drivers take note: East Coast folks could teach y’all everything you need to know about driving like a badass and NOT wrecking), we bought our passes and took a seat.
We learned several things while riding. No one makes eye contact. Why? Y’all don’t like one another? And there’s an etiquette to riding an escalator. Who knew? We didn’t , but after someone schooled His Awesomeness you can bet it’s a lesson we’ll never forget.
Because we’d cherry picked the exhibits, we made good time and no one had a meltdown because they were overwhelmed. Huzzah, for bright ideas! There were things we wanted to see that, once seen, left us feeling a little let down. Can you say big whoop to the Hope diamond?
We couldn’t get over how hot it was there…like Texas only 1000 times more humid and hot. So when we came out of the Air and Space museum, we hailed what His Awesomeness called a bikeshaw and took a ride to the opposite end of The Mall for our final tour.
Our final stop was the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.
Several years back, His Awesomeness and I got the chance to see “Schindler’s List”. He sat through it with his mouth hanging open and I wept. At the end, he turned to me and said it’s only a movie, right Mom? It didn’t really happen like that, right? It was an understandable question given that most all the movies he’d seen up until then had been make believe. I told him no, it was true, all of it.
We have a responsibility to teach our children history whether we like it or not, no matter how difficult the subject. Whitewashing history, censoring it, pretending like ‘some day’ will be a better time to discuss these events is a disservice to the people who suffered through it, the ones who didn’t come through it, and to the children we are raising.