I was childless and jobless when we first moved to Boston. It was a time of great joy.

I knew that this was an opportunity not to be squandered, so I made it a point to explore the city. I knew that someday I would miss the freedom to indulge in what I loved, and once I found a job I missed that lifestyle almost immediately. But I had no regrets, because I spent the time wisely.

One of my favorite things to do was to go to the Museum of Fine Arts with a book and wander the halls until I was tired, find a well-lit gallery, and settle down with my book. It was glorious, and in time the priceless works of art became familiar friends.

I haven't been back to the MFA that often, but this Friday we were back.

Once I was done with my traditional Black Friday de-cluttering (<a href="http://www.everydaytreats.com/2011/11/alternative-black-friday-declutter.html">it's <em>totally</em> a thing, by the way</a>) we gathered up the kids and my mother and hit the MFA. At one point I was standing next to their bronze of Degas' <a href="http://www.mfa.org/explore/send-an-ecard/12387">Little Dancer aged fourteen years</a> when I noticed the funny juxtaposition of the the famous dancer and the painting of the mooning man behind her (he's just drying himself off after his bath, but I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old).

So OF COURSE I just had to Instagram it, right?

I passed the time while I waited for the docent to leave the impressionist's gallery (so I could take a picture with my camera phone, duh) by reading the description below the sculpture's glass case. It basically said that what it says on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Dancer_of_Fourteen_Years">Wikipedia</a>
<blockquote>When the <em>La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze Ans</em> was shown in Paris at the Sixth Impressionist Exhibition of 1881, it received mixed reviews. The majority of critics were shocked by the piece. They compared the dancer to a monkey and an Aztec and referred to her as a "flower of precocious depravity," with a face "marked by the hateful promise of every vice" and "bearing the signs of a profoundly heinous character."<span style="font-size: 11px;"> </span>She looked like a medical specimen, they reported, in part because Degas exhibited the sculpture inside a glass case.</blockquote>
The sculpture was the first and last sculpture Degas ever exhibited. It was a failure.

One woman was apparently interested in buying it,