On the Quest for a Milkshake

C and I had tickets for the Nutcracker on Sunday afternoon.  We stopped to get lunch at McD's drive thru.  C instructed me to order an 8 peice chicken nuggets and a milkshake.  THE VOICE from THE BOX informed me that the milkshake machine was down. I expected C express displeasure (ahem), but he took it in stride. 

During the opening Act of the Nutcracker, C literally sat on the edge of his seat and uttered "awesome" from time to time.  At one point, he asked when the "Rat King" would appear and I assured him that it would be soon.  After the dual and death of the Mouse King and Clara's arrival in the winter fairy land of many ballerinas, C shifted to the back of his seat.  45 minutes on the edge is quite good.  So when intermission occurred, I expected to hear his excitement about the first Act:

C: "Can we go home?"
E: "No, this is intermission.  There is a second half."
C: "I'm bored.  I want to go home.  I'm hungry and need a snack. I want a milkshake." 
E:  "You ate a good lunch.  They don't have milkshakes here.  But if you go to the bathroom we can see what snacks they have in the lobby." 
(After a few back and forths, C takes off his shoes and socks, puts in his big toe in his mouth.) 
E:  "We're in the theater!  Get your toe out of your mouth!  It's bad enough you do that at home." 
C:  "You won't get me a snack so I'm having one here!"

Egads! 

As the second half begins, C is sitting facing the back of his seat.  As the music and dancing start, he turns to look over his shoulder to see the action.  But eventually, he lays over on the arm rest and falls asleep.  The show, by the way, was fantastic--costumes, scenery, music, dancing, everything. 

Afterwards, as a student in the dance theater, C could get a poster signed by the cast members.  While we waited in line, I coached him on what he could say to the dancers.  The first dancer asked him what he liked best.  Unfortunately, we hadn't discussed an answer to this one, so I had to jump in to say that he liked the Mouse King.  But C was flummoxed so therefore would more or less throw the poster at the dancers and refuse to talk to them.  The next to last dancer was also using the "What part did you like best?" question.  The girl in front of  C in line answered that she liked it all; so, C repeated her response when he faced the query again.

Finished at the theater, our quest for the milkshake resumed.  Given that uptown has few fast food places at all, and fewer places open on weekends, I knew it would be a challenge.  The Panthers game was letting out at the same time and the streets were gridlocked with traffic, so we walked around awhile, but not even burger joints had the lucious elixir.  We were going straight to his Scout meeting, nestled safely in the 'burbs where there are more fast food chains than...well, anything. Fortunately, we were saved by Wendy and her Frosty. 

The next morning, C awoke, ran to our bathroom, saw Mommy and exclaimed "Mommy. I saw the Nutcracker. It was great!  The Mouse King and Nutcracker guy fought each other with swords. Then, they shot a mouse out of a canon. That was really cool!" 

To borrow from another giant of the stage:  All's well that ends well...