Did those Romans know how to do it up right or what?!

I so wish I could hop in the time machine and go pay the Romans a visit. I totally think I was a Roman in another life. I’m pretty certain I rocked the gladiator sandal look rather well.

So this beauty hails from the Musée Cluny.

A must see if you’re into Romans and the Middle Ages, or just one … okay, or both. Personally, the Middle Ages, ain’t my thing. They creep me out. Can’t get into it. Roman anything, however, is another story.

I chose the perfect afternoon to hit up the Cluny … it was overcast, and chilly, and with about five minutes and three street corners to round, started pouring. Finally, being prepared had its place and I was saying multiple hail Mary’s that it was just my feet that got wet.

What is it about feet, by the way, that even with an oversize umbrella, always get soaked?

Anyway, darkish atmosphere was set for the Cluny, the perfect mood for the place and lucky moi, it was basically empty.

There’s nothing more thrilling than being left all to your lonesome in a museum room that dates from the 12th century, surrounded by Roman ruins.

Just writing that has my heart palpitating with fond memories.

To be honest, I thought about climbing in this tub. How could I not?! And who in their right mind wouldn’t want to? It was huge, the picture doesn’t do the size justice, with tons of depth. You could have laid three me’s in there and not seen a head.

While I refrained from bath tub nap time, I did put my hand on it. Which, I don’t know if it has some sensor on it, or if the people who work there just have psychic touch abilities, because immediately an official showed up to yell at me about “les mains” {hands}.

Followed by much “NE TOUCHEZ PAS”.

Really now? What the hell fun is that? Like NO ONE else is touching the damn bath tub? Yeah, right. I find that hard to believe.

Directly across from my future bathtub, is what I lovingly title as, “Zombie Apocalypse”.

Talk about freaaaaaky. Seriously, freaky.

I felt like they were going to come to life at any moment. I’d turn my back and then quickly turn back around, expecting one of them, or all of them to suddenly be coming at me.

My favorite is the one who is carrying its {I’d say “he” or “she” but we don’t really know} head.

I do hope that if I ever were to become a statue, that no one, a few hundred years from now, slices off my stone head.