Today I was in the V&A museum looking at an impressive collection of Roman sculptures (this one in my non-art educated particular, was the tender favorite) when I remembered the last time I was looking at similar carvings.
I was in the Ceasar's Palace hotel in Las Vegas with my family. We were waiting in the shopping mall there for our dinner reservation at the Cheesecake Factory. I was about thirteen or fourteen, and was still being closely followed by my sister two years younger. To save you from the math, that would put her at around eleven or twelve--somewhere around 4th or 5th grade.
I was looking at a Roman statuette. I really liked the marble, I guess.
Okay, maybe I'm lying. I had just finished my Sex Education class and didn't know what to make of all the inconceivable facts I had just been told, the ones that very nearly flipped my whole world upside down. To my horror, Mackenzie shows up at my side and catches me in this very deplorable act. I was thirteen/fourteen so I knew by then that when things of that nature showed up, I was to avert eye contact and keep walking. I knew that. I was ashamed and uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do.
She looks at me, and then the statue. She proceeds to look back and forth a few times more. Then she turns to me a final time and says,
"Is that where lettuce comes from, Hay?"
Roman sculptures at Ceasar's Palace are different than the Roman sculptures at the V&A museum...