“Do we have to? I hate being surrounded by all that old stuff. Besides, we come here every time.”
“Of course we do. Just shush. Do it for your father.”
“Yeah, brat, maybe you’ll even learn something. The key to your future is the past.”
They crossed the manicured grounds, climbed the steps and entered the old building. They were greeted at the door and reminded of the rules; inside voices, no running, no phones, and the items on display were to be looked at, not handled. Sneaking in a last punch at each other, the two boys followed their parents as the door closed on fresh air and sunshine.
“It smells in here.”
“Smell of history preserved. Check Dad out, he always goes to the same displays first.”
“Stupid, they’re not exhibits. This isn’t a museum.”
“Isn’t it? Mom, are we eating here at grandma’s too?”
A family tale for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #122. 147 words this time, using the word “museum”.