Zac's coworker's wife is in this performance group called "Paperhand Puppet Intervention". I've seen pictures of their shows in the paper, and it always looked weird, but we decided to give it a shot this year. The show was on Friday evening at seven, with music beforehand (performed by none other than Zac's coworker and his wife.) Instead of trying to go home and then back out, I picked up the kids and met Zac at a restaurant near the art museum. Nobody cried, but restaurant eating with the kids remains far from pleasant.
We were running a bit late, and so we heard the music as we were walking from the parking lot to the amphitheater, but by the time we got a seat, they were packing up to make room for the main show. We were sorry to miss seeing Zac's coworker, but it was probably for the best given that the kids have a very small window for sitting still.
When the person came out on stage to warm up the crowd, Simon got really into it. Alice cowered behind me, fearful that terrifying giant puppets might emerge at any moment.
Once the show got started, I convinced Alice she would be safe on my lap, and she and Simon were really interested in it for a while. Eventually, Alice had to go to the bathroom and Zac took Simon to the grassy area to run around. When Alice and I got back, she watched for a while more, but then became more interested in where people were getting popsicles from than the action on the stage. Which was understandable, given that the second part of the show was a bunch of childhood vignettes acted out by adults wearing giant heads, like in the movie Frank. The first part had been something about water and pollution, but it was at least interesting for children to watch the giant frogs and fish and water drops.
So we went to the grassy area at the top of the amphitheater and Alice whined for a Popsicle for a while (which we did not buy her). Soon, we were able to distract her by telling her she could go play in the fountains with Simon, a time-honored tradition we have whenever we visit the museum.