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

I knew that this was a great opportunity not to be squandered, so I made it a point to explore the city. I knew I would miss those days someday, 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.

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 Degas'