Girl with a Stroller

Last weekend we went to the DeYoung Museum to see Girl with a Pear Earring and other works from Dutch artists.  The museum has a no-stroller policy.  I suppose it’s to protect the ankles of unsuspecting gazers in tight spaces.  They were trying to protect people from potential offenders like me as I arrived armed with an umbrella stroller. 

When I approached the entrance they informed me about their policy. They directed to me to the coat check to stow my stroller.  I didn’t want to carry Niko the entire time in the museum so I asked if it’s absolutely necessary to check my stroller.  The coat check woman suggested that I talk to the security guard to obtain an approval on my stroller.  I walked to the security guard and asked her if it would be all right to keep my stroller since it wasn’t very large and I was quite proud of my maneuvering skills. 

She looked my at stroller and asked, “Is your child disabled?” 

I froze.  I think this might have been the first time someone asked me this question point blank.  I mean we get looks all the time but, really, what baby doesn’t get stares (good or bad). 

“Yes,” I managed.

“Ok, let me check for you.  We can maybe make exceptions for the disabled.”  The security guard then called into her dispatch radio, “I need a stroller approval for a disabled child.”  I heard it echo across every radio in the entire museum.  I know it was in my head but that’s the way it played out for me.  She then repeated over the radio, “I need a stroller approval for a disabled child.” 

The radio replied in a crackling voice, “Go ahead.  It’s fine.”

I got the green light and wheeled Niko towards the ticket collector.  I hid my stinging face as I handed my ticket.  I don’t like the idea of playing the special needs card.  And I’m ashamed to admit that I quietly cried through the whole Rembrandt collection.  Why am I still so damn sensitive?  By the time I made it to Vermeer, I collected myself.  And this luminous face took my breath away.  It’s as if she was looking straight at me with a little bit of hurt and understanding in her eyes.  The rest of the day was sunny and beautiful.