(I'm behind big time on posting on this blog. I haven't uploaded Thanksgiving photos yet, so I've been holding off on posting. But sometimes you just have to skip ahead and write what's on your mind NOW instead of waiting to do it in the proper order).
Last night was the Live Peter Pan broadcast and I'm sort of sad I missed the beginning. I started late, only setting it to record when Ben started getting tweets about a pirate with a Star Wars tattoo. (Christian Borle playing Smee, and Ben confirmed his left bicep. We think it's either a huge fan who included it, or a hint that he will be in the new movie.) I stopped watching after 45 minutes so I can watch it later and fast forward the many many commercial breaks.
This was so much much better than Sound of Music. Although Allison Williams didn't have the power and professionalism of her lost (and cast way too old) boys, she had the character nailed. Christopher Walken was terrible. Actually, I pretty much agree with this blogger's take on it.
But what really sold it for me was when Jack crept downstairs in his jammies, 30 minutes after we put him to bed. He was cradling his puppy toy and peering around the Christmas tree, tentatively asking what we were watching. I'm usually pretty strict about bedtimes, but the sight of him melted me. I opened my arms to fold him in my lap and together we watched Peter Pan. He LOVED the Disney show when he was 3. He remembered a lot of it and asked lots of questions about new parts. He was keen to see the pirates. He honestly thought Pan could fly. "I guess she can leap really really far" he explained when I asked him about her jumps. When she stayed up and flipped upside down he was truly baffled. Ben and I shared laughing eyes - the wires and harnesses so obvious to us. But to Jack this was something magical. When I finally insisted he go to bed I turned off the show so it wouldn't be temptation for him, promising that he can finish it later. I miss magic things.