“Are those tentacles?”
Gracie squinted and tilted her head to the side. “Maybe?” she tilted her head the other way. “It might also be water hoses. I’m not really sure.”
Margaret sighed and threw her hands in the air. “Art is weird and I don’t like it.”
Gracie rolled her eyes. “We are only here so that you can impress a boy, Mar. If you want to go home, we can go home.”
Margaret looked around weighing her options. There were about twelve more paintings for them to stare at blankly. They had already looked at six. Maybe she could bullshit enough through the six that he wouldn’t ask too much about the last twelve. Besides, she didn’t want him thinking she was “crazy” about art exhibits and bringing her to them all the time.
“Okay. Let’s go home.” Margaret declared.
“Yay!” Gracie smiled, linking her arm in Margaret’s and headed as quickly she could towards the door, “Let’s get ice cream on the way home. To help erase the memory of tentacles.”
“Or possibly water hoses.”