the spaGETTY museum

We spent our friday night on a family date at the Getty Museum. Talmage continually referred to it as the spaghetti museum, and I'm sure was confused to find artwork instead of meatballs in the spacious galleries overlooking the city of Los Angeles. Going to a fancy art museum with two young bucks in tow is always an adventure, but luckily the Getty has impressive gardens that Thing One could run through and Thing Two could scream in without bothering a soul (except for maybe the couples wine-tasting on the grass, sorry!)

Best. Picture. Ever.

This was outside an exhibit I was super excited to see of celebrity portraits--too bad most of the celebrities forgot their clothes for the pictures. I spent most of the short time we were in the exhibit covering all three of my boys' eyes.

 The gorgeous gardens. And our family. 

Of course we visit this amazing museum (and see Van Gogh's Irises for heaven sake) and T's favorite part--the tram (which he called the train) that takes you from the parking garage up the hill to the museum. After the ride up he begged for the next 90 minutes to ride it again. T's memory of the evening: a train ride at the Spaghetti Museum. We're such awesome parents.