Alexis' schedule has been all sorts of catawampus lately, which is the only explanation I have for how I found myself with tickets to A Musical Christmas Carol and no date. She is, of course, my designated wingman for all of these things. I don't know what to do when she can't go.
I tried a few people because I do have friends and stuff, but nobody was free to go to the show with me. Which, SADNESS. Just as I was starting to consider going alone, a certain little tornado went flying by and it occurred to me -- she owes me after all of those school plays.
Surely the child who could sit through a really bad stage performance of a classic ruined with Yinzerification could sit through a professional performance of a Real Show. SURELY.
Or maybe not.
But maybe.
I pretty much had that exact argument in my head over and over for two solid days.
The main difference was that at the high school play, we could just walk out and we wouldn't have bothered a single soul. If Mila had decided to climb the walls, it would have been fine because we could have found walls for her to climb away from all of the peoples. A show at the Byham, though, is a very different situation. There would be no way to make sure we had seats at the end of the row. We couldn't hide in a corner. Basically, if she decided to act a fool, there would be witnesses and she would be putting a damper on their carefully planned evening.
I went for it anyway. What's the point of living if you don't take risks from time-to-time?
So, here's the thing. A Musical Christmas Carol is kid-friendly, but it wasn't created for kids. There was singing and great acting and an amazing set and all of that, but the story is still waaaaaaay over Mila's head. Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present and WHAT? She can't tell time, forget about understanding what has not yet happened but will unless you create a hole in the space time continuum. She should have been bored to tears.
She wasn't.
Little Miss Ready to Set the World on Fire sat in my lap, with her back perfectly straight and her eyes transfixed on the stage. She didn't blink for the first twenty minutes because she was so in awe of every little thing. Even after that, she didn't miss a single syllable. She loved every second of the show.
Nobody was more surprised than me.
WAIT. I take that back. When Mila and I were sliding into our seats before the start of the show, we had to ask two older women to make a tiny bit of space. One was using my seat as her personal coat holder and the other was all sorts of sprawled out. Once we crawled over them and settled in, I heard the coat lady turn to her companion and whisper, "Well, this is going to be a disaster."
She was talking about Mila. I am 110% positive she thought Mila was going to be distracting and wiggly and annoying and all of that.
HEY, ME TOO! I was pretty sure she was going to be a jerk.
But then she wasn't. And at the end of the show, the woman turned to Mila and said, "You were soooo good! Did you like the show?"
Mila replied, "It was boo-ti-ful! I want to see it again!"
Note to self: on this day in the year 2017, someone complimented Mila's behavior in public. ENJOY THIS MOMENT.