Friday, Aug. 01, 2008

The Confessions of a Mad Housewife

D.C. Should be Rated PG-13

Michele Valdez

Last week I traveled to Washington, D.C., with our 9-year-old daughter.

I arranged a White House and Capitol tour and made a list of the memorials, monuments and museums we could squeeze into our two-day visit.

The last time we were in Washington we saw Dorothy’s red slippers, the first ladies’ ball gowns and the Air and Space Museum.

This time I contacted a couple of Washington insiders to get the scoop on the hottest sights. Turns out the Spy Museum and the Crime and Punishment Museum are the rage so I purchased tickets online. I set our itinerary with Clark Griswold precision. Unfortunately, the National Lampoon comparison didn’t end there.

We began with the White House. We wandered through with throngs of people. We saw the Green Room, the Red Room and the Blue Room. My daughter was bored. Examining china from presidents past, 300-year-old furniture and paintings of old people isn’t much fun. The highlights were the cute commando-looking men carrying huge Hell Boy type guns who stood guard.

Next we headed to the Crime and Punishment Museum.

One of the first exhibits showcased the crimes of Ted Bundy. Thinking about the murder of college coeds made me wonder if the hottest spot is always the best choice. The next display was a series of antique torture devices. I had the good sense to push my daughter through, but stopped to see Bonnie and Clyde’s car. I examined the bullet-riddled car, but my daughter tuned her self-guided tour to the St. Valentine’s Day massacre. She looked scared, so we raced through the Son of Sam, Night Stalker and Uni-bomber exhibits. Near the end of the museum, we came to display depicting the history of executions.

My daughter stopped at the electric chair and asked what it was. As I described how electrical currents can be conducted through a wet sponge placed on someone’s head — I stopped myself, thankfully, before I got to the smoking scalp part of the explanation. It felt creepy so we headed to the gift shop, bought a pair of handcuffs and left.

That afternoon we visited some memorials. I hoped that would be more uplifting. The Lincoln Memorial was first. My little innocent thought it was pretty, but then proudly gave me a history lesson by explaining Lincoln was shot in the head while watching a play. She wondered if I knew that fact. We went to the Korean War memorial. We learned that more than 50,000 Americans died in that conflict and another 50,000-plus lost their lives in the Vietnam war. We dragged ourselves past several homeless people to see the WWII Memorial. I had no idea that more than 400,000 Americans gave their lives in that war.

It was early, but I was depressed.

The thought of another memorial was overwhelming, and I knew the Holocaust Museum would send us both into therapy.

We headed to the hotel, ordered room service and watched Sponge Bob.

The next morning we toured the Capitol. It’s a beautiful building with underground tunnels, but I wasn’t up to educating my daughter about the three branches of government. From there we visited the spy museum. The history of treason and espionage in this country is a downer so we quickly wandered through the exhibits. We ate at the Spy Café and bought a pen with disappearing ink.

We headed to the airport and took an earlier flight home than we had planned. At that point I realized that although I love my country, some details of our nation’s history are not for the pre-pubescent. Next year I’m going to Disneyworld.

Michele Valdez is a slightly compulsive, mildly angry feminist, past attorney and present volunteer. She lives in Colleyville with her demanding children and husband.