This fountain is my favorite thing at The Cloisters. It’s not the oldest thing here, nor the prettiest. It’s my favorite because of what happened near it.
An annoying family of three seemed to be shadowing our every move. Every gallery we entered, they’d follow. The father babbled loudly and incessantly to his toddler son, injecting fake enthusiasm into his every utterance. (LOOK at the STATues, Jonah! Aren’t they GREAT?)We ducked into the courtyard where this fountain is the centerpiece, hoping to shake them. No luck. (Look! It’s a DOORway. Isn’t that GREAT, Jonah?)
As we tried to get away from them, Jonah had to be shown the fountain. (It’s WATER, Jonah! Isn’t it SO COLD?) And Dad balanced Jonah on the edge of the fountain so little Jonah could stick his hand in the SO COLD water (because he’s never seen water in his life, apparently).
And then it happened. One of the museum guards saw this idiocy and barked out, “Why doncha dunk him? I could get you some soap, you can give him a bath.”
As Dad squawked indignantly and hustled Jonah away, the guard continued, “Thing’s hundreds of years old. I know, I’ll put a baby in it. Morons.”
I love this fountain.