Mr. Snips does D.C.

On Friday we took the long venture up to Washington D.C., and we truly had a wonderful time.  It was the first time Jax has been to the city and actually been old enough to enjoy anything.  We had lunch and visited the Air and Space Museum, the Museum of Natural History, and the Museum of American History.  Each and every time I go to the National Mall, I am reminded of how very lucky we are to have these extraordinary Smithsonian exhibits practically in our back yard!  And, it never ceases to amaze me that they are free of charge!

It was a fun day, complete with riding the D.C. Metro during rush hour (not so fun) . . . yet somehow I managed to leave my camera mostly in Jackson's diaper bag.  I did, however, snap this cute photograph on our much less stressful morning ride into the city.

Now, why the blog post title?

I couldn't resist sharing this one!

So, because of Jackson's Mehta Cast . . . I carry a large pair of tin snips (the hardware store variety) in the bottom of his diaper bag in case of emergencies.  If he were to need CPR or Heimlich, I would first need to cut through the two sections on the front of his cast to gain full access to either his sternum or his belly.  I figured that these large shears may cause an issue with the bag scans at the security checkpoints.  So, a few days in advance I made several phone calls and was eventually connected with the head of security for the Smithsonian Institute.  He was extremely understanding and accommodating.  We simply had to email him our museums of choice, and he was able to brief the security personnel at each museum that we would be bringing tin snips into the museums.

No.  Problemo.

If memory serves, my email explanation went something like this:  "My 17-month old son wears a plaster torso cast for infantile scoliosis.  In case of emergency, we carry a pair of tin snips in our diaper bag for use should the cast need to be removed."

Honestly, I know this gentleman understood this situation.  However, when we arrived at our first museum, we received an interested alternative for our special security exception.  While the security guards were expecting us, and while they were still very gracious in allowing us to pass hassle-free through security . . . we got a real kick out of how the message was relayed.  It reminded me a lot of the game I used to play in Girl Scouts called "telephone," where one person whispers a message into another person's ear . . . and the message continues being whispered until it made its way around the entire circle of girls . . . then, the last person says the message aloud, usually resulting in something completely and utterly ridiculous!

Here's how it all went down:

Me:  "Hello.  I believe you were briefed this morning about the family that would be bringing the tin snips into the museum?

Security Officer:  "Yes!  Is this Mr. Snips?"

Me:  "I'm sorry?  This is my son, he is wearing a torso cast."

Security Officer:  "Huh?  It's him?  It's a child?"

Me:  "Yes, sir.  He has scoliosis.  They are just for emergency use."

Security Officer:  "No.  It's no problem.  Come on in.  We were just told this morning to expect an older adult in a full body cast who needed special assistance to enter the museum.  They said his name was Mr. Snips."

Thus was born Jackson's nick name for the rest of the day, "Mr. Snips."  I seriously don't know how our actual message was morphed into that one, but it sure was funny!