So we took James to the Experimental Farm or the Central Agricultural Museum, or whatever it's called for Father's Day. I think we all had a great time, except there were a ton of bizarre parents there. I mean, seriously, why is it that parents of children at museums insist that their children cannot possibly play with another child. James was playing in a mini shed, you could probably fit 3 or 4 kids in there, and this mom was like "No honey, that boy is already playing with it." Hello? Your child isn't going to get scabies from my son, and maybe it's time your daughter learned to play with other children? James is only 17 months old and he already has a good grasp on the subject thanks to the Munchkin and his present daycare.

And forget the odd looks when I put on a puppet show for James, you know, because Josh and I play with our son rather than sit in the corner and yell at our child.

I'm starting to get seriously weirded out about going to museums.

I have to remind myself it's about James, pooping cows, and escape artist rabbits, not fucked up parents.
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