Our Morning at the Theater

When a good friend called me a couple weeks ago and asked if Greenleigh and I wanted to go to see Sesame Street Live with her and her daughter, I immediately said yes.  I didn’t ask what day, I didn’t ask what the show was about, and I didn’t ask how much the tickets were.  I didn’t care.  Let’s face it – Sesame Street Live is the closest I’m going to come to going to the theater for quite a while.

Yesterday Greenleigh and I packed up to go see the show.  After a brief meltdown that Erajh and Hazeline weren’t coming with us, we were on our way.  As we entered the huge performing arts center, Greenleigh clung to me and the Elmo book she had brought.  She was excited to see her friend, but not quite ready to let go of me when the lights went down in the theater.  As the characters started appearing on stage she had a momentary freak out, but by the second or third song she wanted the seat to herself and was excited to see the characters.  Towards the end of the first “act” she was dancing in her seat.  As the lights started to go on, my friend leans over and starts pointing towards the sides of the stage.  Before she even said anything I saw what she was referring to – huge Elmo balloons.  Tons of them.  Clearly, the designers of this show hate us.  Why on Earth would they taunt my child like that?  They obviously want me to buy the $5 balloon to make her happy.  As if the $40 per ticket wasn’t enough.  Damn you, creators of Sesame Street Live and your marketing techniques!

At intermission, and in an attempt to avoid a request for a “loon”, Greenleigh and I headed out out of the theater to grab a snack.  There was no way I could survive all the high pitched singing that early in the morning without a little caffeine.  After buying drinks I decided to head over to the booth where they were selling souvenirs.  My friend had bought her daughter a stuffed animal and it only seemed fitting that I purchase something for Greenleigh too.  We have most of the Sesame Street stuff animals, but we waited in line to purchase either a Zoe or Abby (the only 2 missing from our collection).  When we were second from the front I realized the people in front of us were buying the souvenir place out.  Literally.  The father had a 12 month old little girl on his shoulders and was purchasing everything she pointed at.  It was clear that the 12 month old had no idea what was going on, but the mother kept prodding her, “Tell your dad what else you want, honey.”  I thought maybe the parents had a fight that morning and this was the way of the wife getting back at her husband.  She seemed to delight in him purchasing overpriced merchandise.  Don’t these people know that Babies “R” Us (definitely not a discount retailer, in my opinion) sells the same stuff for at least 50% less?  Didn’t matter.  That child was getting everything.  I guess they don’t leave the house much.  At that point, I realized how crazy I was being, because Greenleigh showed zero interest  in what I was about to buy her.  We left the line without a stuffed animal.

I never realized how confusing intermission could be to little kids.  Both girls seemed confused that the lights went up but we weren’t leaving.  We tried to explain that it was a break, but I don’t know that the explanation really sunk in.  Regardless, the second act started and the girls were as excited as ever.  So excited that Greenleigh started jumping while clutching the seat in front of her.  Now, there was no one in the seat in front of her, but there was a person in the seat next to it.  We immediately got a cold stare from that person.  Um, hi.  Perhaps I need to remind you where you are, lady.  You are at Sesame Street Live, not Phantom of the Opera or Les Miserables.  Kids are going to get excited, and up to that point my daughter had been an angel.  She didn’t pull your hair, talk through the first act, screech, or try to leap into your seat.  Not once.  So relax.  Ordinarily, I am the kind of mom who is very concerned about my child making too much noise and/or impinging on your personal space, but come on, we are at a kids production.  Lighten up or find another seat.  And that is what she did.

In the end, it was a little less like a day at the theater and a little more like a rock concert for toddlers.  If Greenleigh could figure out snaps, I have no doubt I would have had to keep her from throwing her onesie on stage.