Reflections of a Date with My 9 Year Old

Over the past few days, I have found myself thinking about my special Nutcracker date with Robby. I can't help but break into a spontaneous smile each time I think about our special night. Robby was simply charming, and his perspectives on the ballet were purely innocent and uninhibited.

We began by dining together at Cheesecake Factory which happens to be his favorite restaurant.  He practiced all of his chivalrous manners by opening both my drivers side door and the doors to the restaurant. Sporting his tux and top hat, he strutted up to the hostess and said "bon jour" in his best French accent (which is not convincing) before requesting a table for two. Needless to say, he garnered smiles from everybody.

He ordered a "man sized" milk before thanking the waitress for the bread. He remarked that the brown bread was his favorite and that he was planning on eating the entire loaf before his dinner arrived.  When she commented that he wouldn't be hungry for dinner if he ate the entire loaf, my little top hatted Koopa coyly smiled and said, "Well, that's okay. I'll take the dinner home with me and then I get to eat again. It makes coming here almost buy one get one free, which is good because it's expensive."

After dinner we headed to the ballet. Robby was awestruck by the concert hall, commenting to everybody how fancy the walls looked. As we were walking to our seats, he stopped and talked to every usher, showing off his new Nutcrackers and chit-chatting about the whether or not the gold on the walls and ceiling was "legit or fake."

We settled into our seats and Robby began talking to the man sitting next to him. He complimented Robby's attire by calling him dapper. Robby thanked him and then proceeded to have a long conversation about a string of random topics. I suspect that his neighbor was happy when the lights dimmed.

Robby's excitement when the lights were darkened was infectious. He sat on the edge of his seat throughout the first act, delighted to hear the music that he adores. Every once in awhile he leaned over to provide a comparison between the story we were watching and what happened during the Tom and Jerry version. He also provided commentary on the scenery, costumes and dancers.

During intermission we went to stretch our legs and get a drink of water. Worried about leaving his seat, Robby felt the need to inform the couple sitting next to me that we were leaving and would be right back. He also asked the stranger to keep an eye on his Nutcracker because "you can't be too careful." Covering his bases, he also told the usher of our plans and asked her to make sure that nobody stole his Nutcracker. 

Robby was just as attentive during the second act of the ballet, grinning widely and applauding gleefully when the "death defying tricks" were completed by the dancers. At the conclusion of the show, he was the first to leap to his feet while clapping. He also enthusiastically screamed out "Bravo," "Bellisimo" and "Great job" before lamenting that we failed to bring roses to throw onto the stage like they do at the end of Tom and Jerry. 

He couldn't wait to call his Nana as we left the performance, eager to tell her all about the show. "Nana, they played the Nutcracker music. There were people dancing, too." He also declared that he loved it, and that he wants to do it every year.  On the drive home he talked nonstop about the performance. He did mention that he felt bad for the boy dancers, because their tights were all the way between their cheeks. "Really Momom, can you believe that they didn't once reach back to pick out the tight wedgie? That means that they had a really good teacher."