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...