It’s been MONTHS since Lance and I went on a date. Too long. So, as a reward for my freakout (wanna hear about it? Answer in the poll to the left) today (ENABLER!), Lance took me out.
But there’s a cool story before this one. We don’t have a babysitter here, so Lance posted on our ward’s listserv. He explained about the autism, the Down syndrome, the evil, and promised high compensation. Right away a lady in our ward called and said that she wanted to watch the kids. She has a teen-age son with autism, and understands how necessary it is for us to get out. She also wanted to do it for free. I cried. 

(Remember how I used to pretend I don’t cry? I do. I’m not a sentimental person, but when people are AWESOME, it makes me cry. How I loathe human emotion)
So we took the Metro to D.C., made out in a few elevators, and went to the art museums. Did I tell you about how I have ADD? Yeah, art museums aren’t anything like Pinterest. I couldn’t focus. I didn’t care enough. 
FOR SHAME. But it’s true. I was bored. Except at the African Art Museum. Good stuff. Those artists had no shame in showing what happens to a women’s boobs after she nurses. They also had a bunch of poke your eyes out boob statues. I bet that’s what they used them for.
We went over to the Modern Art Museum place. I was thoroughly confused. It kind of went like this:
Me: Art? 
Lance: Yes, mobile. 

Me: Art?

Lance:  Lightswitch                                                Me: Art?    Lance: Yes?
Lance: Art?
Me: I’ll go ask (it was!)
Now that we learned about art, we decided to make some of our own. Look how pretty we are:

 Let this be a lesson to you. CHIN UP when facing any camera. I’m not 500 pounds (yet). This is the most hideous picture ever (I win, Henslee). If you’re on here because you knew me in high school and wanted to see if I had gotten fat, we’ll, I just made your day, huh? You’re welcome.
{Lets pretend that I put this picture on because I wanted to show you that my brother calls me every freaking day to talk about Words with Friends and not because I wanted to point out that I do, in fact, have a chin. Lets pretend I’m not insecure for just a sweet minute, yes? Thank you. Moving on…}

I want this on a canvas over the mantle. This is our relationship in a nutshell. My husband is hot, I’m asleep (doesn’t the scar on my forehead make me look super tough? Right? Straight up gangsta)

Annnddd for Tyson:

In the end, it wasn’t in some squeaky clean museum with people using spectacles and pocket watches where we found the art that REALLY spoke to us, to our intellect and to our CLASS, it was at the metro station, scrawled on a temporary wall:

6 thoughts on “Art?

  1. Best date EVER! You guys are hot AND classy. The picture of Lance scratching his head in bewilderment is the one you should frame and put in your music/art conservatory. Or the garage, maybe?

  2. You and your beautiful family and your wicked sense of humor and your unfailing honesty and EVERYTHING that is related to your Lexi-ness … I know I’ve already mentioned this before, but I scored so BIG when I stumbled upon this lovely little space of yours in the blogosphere. It is without a doubt my favorite … and even though I don’t know you … if it’s cool with you, I totally think about you and your sweet family in my spare time (and I have tons of it!) Thank you … for your sheer awesomeness.

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