Some Days I Seem to Have More Patience Than I Deserve

I swear, some days, experiences I have at the museum provide the best birth control known to man.

Most schools in the state were closed on Friday due to extreme wind chill. See, that's what closes schools around here - the temperature dipping into the negatives. (Not like in DC when schools would be closed the night before with even the threat of snow.)

Translation: there were tons of little fuckers running around the museum like chocolate-fueled psychos, and I was rolling on maybe four hours of sleep.

So when I went to empty the donation box at the end of the day, I had had about enough of crying, tantrums, "Ew! Boobies!" and screaming. Oh, the screaming. (Hey, parents? If your kid is having a tantrum and screaming like a bear is ripping off his arms, "ignoring" him like you do at home is simply not an option. Leaving him outside my office to wail might possibly result in me "accidentally" opening my door at an unsafe velocity directly into your precious little snowflake's head. Just so you know.)

The rotunda was still was crowded at 4:55, and I waited a few minutes for it to clear before opening the box of money, but I wanted to go home. I hid in the docent room for a few, and when I came out, four kids were sidled up against the door, waiting for me.

Little Fucker #1: "Open the store, we want to buy stuff."
Me: "I'm sorry, but the store closes at 4 on the weekdays."
Little Fucker #2: "But we want to buy stuff."
Me: "I'm sorry, but see? The sign says that it closes at 4."
Little Fucker #1: "Open it!
Little Fucker #2: "I'll be your best friend!"
Me: "I already have a best friend. Sorry."
Little Fucker #3: "Open the store for one minute!"
Me: "Nope!"
Little Fucker #4: "OPEN IT NOWWWWWW!"
Me: ...

Then they followed me to the donation box and tried to grab at the money while I removed the bills.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, their parents were standing about five feet away the whole time.