So, we took the kids to see a show on the weekend - "Unleashed! The Secret Lives of White House Pets" The story revolves around a new First Daughter and her jittery chihuahua. They get sent back in time to meet previous White House pets (and some of their owners) and eventually return to the present, filled with new courage, happy happy.

The material was stretched kind of thin, and was further dragged out by the unnecessary use of monologues.

By the time we reached pet number eight (snake, Alice Roosevelt), The Boy had had enough. There we were, SECOND ROW, house left. I was furthest right, The Boy and Husband were furthest left. Suddenly, in the middle of the snake's monologue, clear as a bell comes:

"BLAAAAAAH BLAH BLAH, BLAH BLAH BLAAAAH BLAH BLAH."

Aigh, it's The Boy! The entire theater can hear him! Guiltily, I looked aroound to find all the adults around me grinning sympathetically, and nodding. At least it turns out The Boy was not alone in his opinion...