At first I was Good Dad and let them run around, pressing buttons and looking at lights. A bit before we had to go, however, I turned into Evil Dad and asked them to explain what they were seeing. You should have heard the terrified wailing of those two! "Why, Father," my daughter cried out, "what you ask is impossible! No human has yet uncovered the keys to the mysteries held inside these blinking lights and spinning wheels!" And then I did something most hideous of all.
I had them read the words on the posters around the exhibits where they were playing. It was horrible. I'm surprised Child Protective Services didn't swoop down upon me and carry me off. Perhaps, more justly, I should have been handed over to the curators at the Museum of Man to be stuffed and exhibited as "A Curious Species of Diabolical Father."
Since I was not apprehended, rest assured that I shall strike again, bringing despair into the hearts of these young ladies in other museums!