I stood there in front of the “1800s irons” museum. “Really” I thought. Out of all of the museums mom could have picked on our vacation, she had to pick the most boring and not interesting one. We walked in and I could not believe it. The museum lived up to its name. Boring. It was literally a bunch of rusty old irons in cases all around the place. What I could not grasp my brain around is that my mom and dad actually seemed INTERESTED. Traitors. This is going to be a very very very long day, I thought.