Art attack

I try to excite Mr T into a small gallery in Sollér: "These paitings are by a man called Miró, aren't they pretty?" Mr T gasps with (genuine) excitement. I feel (pretentious) pride as he leaps forward: "REALLY? Wow, what is it? A fire hose?" My heart sinks as I see my son in front of the wall-hung fire equipment: "Yes. It is".