Making our way inside, I was surprised by the number of dead things at the Virginia Living Museum.

And to be honest?

They didn’t look too happy about the fact either.

 

 

Look at the stink eye on this owl.

Clearly he’s not pleased with that skeleton placement.

 

 

The woodchuck has a piece of wood.

A bit too on point…. no?

 

 

And Bambi?

Well, he looks like he’s ready to bite off a curator’s finger…. or two.

 

 

Even the turtle you climb into wasn’t immune from the specter of death.

 

 

But what really took the cake?

The Christmas tree….

 

 

Complete with a fish skull angel topper.

 

 

If that doesn’t give junior screaming holiday nightmares… nothing will.

 

 

Thankfully there were live creatures as well.

 

 

Though little people had to be talked into petting them.

 

 

Horseshoe crabs used to wash up on the Jersey shore by the dozens when I was a kid and they always fascinated me.

 

 

A more prehistoric sea creature you’re not apt to find.

 

 

There were interestingly set up exhibits on multiple levels.

 

 

Where the husband practiced his fish whispering again.

 

 

 

Various tanks contained the beautiful…

 

 

And the bizarre.

 

 

I couldn’t quite figure out this crab.

 

 

Was he picking his nose… or giving me the finger?

Tough call.

 

 

I was pleased to see my favorite Lionfish again….

 

 

Spiky venomous fins and all.

 

 

Gracie fell totally in love with a puffer and sang songs to it…..

 

 

 

Though she got yelled at by a volunteer for being a little too physical with the tank.

 

 

I’m not sure why disco colored lights ruled in the jellyfish area.

 

 

But we enjoyed the aquarium and it’s funky residents.

 

 

There was an odd cave like area….

 

 

That was very dark and next to impossible to take pictures in… so I can’t share the bats and snakes and reptiles we saw.

But I did manage a shot of the sign for my husband’s spirit animal.

 

 

Yup… change the shiny objects part to rusty crap? And they’re his people.

Gracie enjoyed the interactive children’s section where all the other kids were making plates of plastic food for their parents.

My contribution to the meal she was making for her mother?

 

 

What can I say?

You just can’t beat a nicely roasted rat.