We here right in the walls of the local railway museum opened a skate with free ski rental. It is necessary to say that the visitability of the museum has since increased in times - winter is in the midst, and the frost is not and is not foreseeable. The wooden pallets left from the ice-filling machines have so far been laid by the museum’s employees with a fine Babylonian pyramid-zickurate next to the slope. They did not, however, get them out - on the first day, the "zikurate" was loved as an insect by fathers-mothers and grandparents. From it it turned out to be very convenient to watch children riding without going out on the ice itself. The sensitive management of the museum enveloped the pallets with huge mattresses-pants of the "fetboy" system, and they immediately stretched up with dozens of fathers, several mothers, and even a couple of grandmothers. Apparently, for a deeper enlightenment of the adults on the pyramid, the management of the museum placed a tent with a hot glitter right next to it. After that, this place gained unprecedented popularity, especially among the popes, and became reminiscent of whether the couch of satiated morges on a warm sunny day, or the ancient Roman pie with majestically adjoining sailors and patricians. Only for children tired of skating there is no room left, and in order to get to this zig-zag at all - to come to the museum was necessary as soon as possible, best to open. All this very much resembled the procedure of seating on the beach in Sochi in the midst of the resort season in Soviet times, when from the early morning the largest and strongest representative of the family was sent to the beach with blankets and towels, and all the others were pulled later - otherwise you could really be left without a place.
The management of the museum and here showed an incredible sensitivity and somewhat expanded the area of the "square", wrapping it with all sorts of pillows, pillows, pens and even sofa rolls.
And here they missed. Because the children who appeared the next day as they arranged from the morning a pillow fight with these same rolls and pens, so to lunch and did not stop. It was enough two or three goals not without strategic talent, so that the fight took an organized and very exciting character. Katok was forgotten, and the children were divided into two hostile camps and began to build defensive structures from mattresses. No adult dared to go there. The director of the museum, who appeared to humiliate the rebels, after receiving a mattress, with silent dignity departed back to his office. From where instead of the expected some punitive team appeared hyperactive youth rock band, cut such a monsoon that the battle took a completely homeric character, and dads-mothers together with their pleds-books-tablets-rings were forced to retreat to pre-prepared positions in the restaurant. There we were already waiting for quite rubbing hands of the cook with the waiters. And the motives of this, at first glance, illogical act of the director became clear - first, they accidentally acquired an attraction, which is more popular than the skateboard, and all the steam trucks of this museum, and secondly, the revenue of the museum restaurant increased.
I am scared even to imagine what the commercial genius of the management of this museum will come up with tomorrow. Safari for parents with paintball guns, no different. And after all, we will go where we will go, when the native child from the very morning cries on the top notes "I want to go to the museum." Intelligent old ladies at the stop look with respect - it is necessary, what kind of child is cultural, so the museum is asked, until the ears are laid. Would they know why he is there...