A young man, Corona in hand, spots his mother grooving in her seat, sans music. He turns to her and inquires, “What are you doing?” Her reply, “I’m dancing in my head.”

If that little tidbit doesn’t set the tone for today’s adventures, then maybe this fact will. We walked about 10 miles round-trip yesterday, and after swearing up and down that we would not subject ourselves to this madness ever again, we did the exact same thing today. That’s right, ladies and gents, six loud Americans lumbered through the architecturally historic streets of Brussels for about an hour and a half all to go to the Musical Instrument Museum situated in the Old England building. But before I even talk about this adventure, because it’s saturated in some situational irony, let’s first shed light on this morning’s antics. Actually, let’s first take it back to last night …

We were exhausted after hiking uphill both ways to the Grand Place with its famous Christmas Market, and after high-tailing it through sketch central, we all needed some sleep. Everyone dissipated from the living area to perform their nightly routines, and I meandered back down to the couch, which is where I opted to sleep. Well, you see this couch is pretty massive; so, my mother ended up crashing on one side of the couch, my father on the biggest “ottoman” I’ve ever seen, and I stretched out on the other end of the couch.

I figured sleep would cast its shadow, and I would slowly sink into a deep slumber. Of course, this didn’t happen. I had also hoped that my parents would wake up and stumble up the winding and very dangerous staircase to their own bed. Of course, this didn’t happen either. Therefore, I had to listen to my mother deep breath so loud, it was as if you could hear the air mingling with every one of her organs, and my father’s supersonic snore. Mind you, I had headphones in, and I could still hear this impromptu jam session.

Eventually, they both found their way out of my makeshift bedroom, and I fell asleep … until I was rudely awoken at 7:00 a.m. by my father and younger brother. One was blasting foreign news stations and the other was face-timing his girlfriend. I needed my beauty sleep.

I started throwing massive amounts of passive aggressive shade, and I even plugged my ears; however, of course my efforts were a fail. It sounded as if both of their voice boxes were loitering on my eardrums. Needless to say, I slept until 10:30 a.m. – which I never do – and I was still exhausted.

Then, because we didn’t want to have to find a breakfast joint, we purchased cereal in those cute little multi-packs the night prior. Well, cute they were not. Each box contained about two spoonfuls of bitter Cocoa Krispies knockoff bits, and we were all still starving. So, we got ready and began the one-and-a-half-hour trek to the museum with plans to stop for a full meal along the way. I want everyone to remember the full meal detail – really let that saturate in your minds.

We had arrived at the museum without stopping for food because apparently Europeans only go out to eat in groups of two. I swear, every place we have stopped at that wasn’t “American” has been a bust because no one expects six loud American humans to enter their establishment in search of nourishment. I guess they expect us to pair off and pay even more gratuity, which is astronomical, by the way. Now, I’m a big tipper, but they tax every little thing; it’s nuts.

My eldest brother managed to find a place, which will remain nameless. As soon as we walked in, I knew that we were going to have to suck it up, because the coats were off and trays were now in hand. It smelled healthy, like someone was experimenting with all-natural substances. Fun fact, my family is not vegan or vegetarian, and this place was definitely closer to both of those on the spectrum of eaters than to us. Props to those who are vegan or vegetarian; it’s just not for us. We like our bacon way too much.

I grabbed a random salad without reading the ingredients – which I regret – a croissant, and some fruit and yogurt. The only thing I really liked was the croissant. The salad had some quinoa and raisins and bland weeds with a spicy kick that wasn’t all that pleasant, and I love spicy foods. It took two of us to finish my salad, because even though I tried to power through it, it just wasn’t for me. Also, we all wanted a full meal, and the rabbit food options we were presented with were the farthest thing from a meal. But, we ate it all without wasting a bit – I’ve already described my father and his need to never waste even a crumb.

After “lunch,” we headed into the museum, and my mother said no to the audio portion of the tour, which would have just been an audio guide … or so we thought. It turns out that the “audio guide” was actually just the instrumental aspect of each instrument. Once we stopped at each instrument display, the audio would play through a remote (if we would have said “yes”). Picture six loud American humans aimlessly walking up and down 10 floors of this instrument museum, not able to actually hear their original sounds. All to save a pretty penny …

Regardless, it was still pretty amazing to see the evolution of certain instruments, even interesting instruments such as the hurdy gurdy, which is oftentimes mistaken for the pipe organ. I also just really like that name; it made me chuckle. Once we left the museum, we walked back through the Christmas Market. Naturally, we purchased some of the same items as the day prior, like hot wine. I purchased some macaroons because I’ve been in search of the best, and I think I found them. Of course, my family ate two sleeves of various flavors in under five minutes, but it was worth it.

We finished up at the market and then made the lengthy walk back to our lodging. It was intense. We burned a lot of calories, and I’m hoping the strain on my glutes was worth braving the frigid air. We fell through the door, drank some brews, and ordered Dominoes because we needed food we could trust after our disappointing breakfast/lunch. At least I had my coffee this morning, because without it, I would have been a disaster to work with on the lengthy journey to a museum of sound where we opted for no sound. Until tomorrow …