My mission… was hopefully not that important.

The Spy Museum is a bit of an outsider in DC because it *gasp* charges admission. This probably seems odd if you live, I don’t know, anywhere else in the world. Heck, the Mushroom Museum in Kennett Square PA charged you a few bucks to learn all about how mushrooms grow.  You have to be pretty exciting to get people to fork over money in a town where you can see everything from dinosaur bones to modern art to Fonzi’s jacket for no charge.

I learned some things at the Spy Museum. For instance, I would make a very bad spy. After your narrated elevator ride, you pick a cover story and memorize it. There was one female in my age range, making my choice pretty easy. I stared at the plaque for a while, and then immediately displayed my ability to be identified as a troublemaker by having to check the plaque again when my brother asked for ‘my’ birthday.

Also learned was that no matter how old I get, when faced with a ‘Where’s Waldo’ style puzzle (finding suspicious items in a picture this time) I can’t pass it up. I am happy to say that my brother and I Team BroSis only missed one. I may not remember when ‘I’ was born, but I can sure find a suspicious looking rock!

The trip ended with the Bond Villains Exhibit and gift shop. The exhibit was well presented, but I agree with Dad that the real stuff was cooler. It’s one thing to see movie clips; quite another to watch interviews of real spies. The store didn’t have  lipstick guns or escape kits designed to be hidden in places I won’t mention, but it did have something like this:

That my friends, is what you think it is. A plush mustache. With a mustache. And if there’s a better way to end this post, I don’t know what it is.

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