Music interruptus

Well, it was a good plan.

Today we went to the Museum of Musical Instruments. This was very promising, an audio tour that changed tunes every time you got near an instrument, featuring five flours of instruments, two just of pianos and clavichords.

It was a good plan!

When we got in the door, there was a lovely wooden carved display of a jazz band, and I went over to look. M of course followed. And in that instant, 937 brilliant examples of raging teenage hormones came in behind us and more or less, stormed the entrance. We thought that we could just wait a few moments, and then go behind them. Unfortunately, they were followed by 1013 of their friends.

Oh thinks, us, lets go to the cafeteria on the top floor and order coffee, and wait them out. Which we did. But, before long, streams of teenagers-feigning-interest-in-a-field-trip came traipsing through the coffee shop. We thought it might take a bit longer, so we aske dif we could order lunch...it was 11:45 so it seemed sensible.

No, we could not. They didn't take orders till twelve.

Okay, I got mad. I admit it. We tipped them nothing for the overpriced coffee and started back down the stairs, dodging kids as we went. And at the entrance, we then had to squeeze past the groups of tweens that were also spending the day there.

So, no lovely music to muse over, instruments to idealize. Nothin.

I don't think I like field trips!