This weekend the bungalow crew and I headed down to the British Museum. It is actually quite embarrassing that we have lived here for four years and this is the first time that we have made our way down there. We did however, finally make it down to see the treasures stored there. And it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. I know we didn't even cover a third of all the collections and I am already dying to go back and see the bits we missed.
But that isn't the story I am writing about, just the setting.
We were walking around the classical Greece section of the museum, admiring the beautiful statues and friezes, as you do, and my kids didn't even bat an eyelash at all the statues being naked. I bet you're all thinking "how cultural!" well, yeah I guess. I mean, it is certainly a bit highbrow for my children and I was really proud of how mature they were acting.
Caroline in particular was really taking it all in. Then she turned to me and said very seriously and said "Mummy, he doesn't have a penis!"
Then out of my mouth popped "Well, he is very old."
