[here you go - have a couple of nephews.]
The two boys were probably as likely to step into an art gallery as the Statue of Liberty was likely to sprout wings and fly. But Rachel was most insistent. They were still moving into the apartment, she said, but they needed some paintings on the wall. Would liven up the place.
Hence, they found themselves doing the impossible. Stepping into a gallery, and actually looking around. Not that it really made much sense to either of them, even after they had done a few rounds, looking at the things from every possible angle.
"Seriously," Gawain was saying at that very moment, "What is that supposed to be?"