Theatrics in the Park

Last night we went to Theatre in the Park, along with easily half of Johnson County. The weather was beautiful, and it seemed like the perfect night to go. I cooked a bunch of food, and we took a picnic, blanket and lawn chairs, and headed out to Shawnee Mission Park to see "Grease."

After standing in line for a half hour to get tickets, we found a spot and settled in. So far so good, right? The food was yummy, the evening was gorgeous and we were enjoying each other's company. Shortly before the show started, we noticed an approximately 11-year-old boy next to Greg, wearing a coonskin cap and showing off like only 11-yo boys can do. :) We were highly amused, and called B.J. to tell him it felt like he was with us.

As the light faded, the two-year-old boy next to me (I mean RIGHT next to me) started using his dad's head for a ring-toss target, over and over and over. Sorta cute, a little annoying, but oh well. Then coonskin cap boy started telling "You might be a redneck if ..." jokes, only he got them all wrong. It was hilarious, and also a little annoying because he was VERY loud. He would bar-har with laughter after each joke - at least someone was laughing.

Then we started getting repeated whiffs of something horrible, like a dishrag that's soaked in sour milk for a week or so. We finally pinpointed it to the teenage boy sitting behind Greg, who was wrapped in a nasty, smelly afghan, and every time he moved the smell wafted our way. Seriously, it was 80 degrees - why he was wrapped in that thing is beyond me. Then he started hacking and coughing all over the back of Greg's head.

Finally, the show starts, and everyone settles down. We're about 15 minutes into it, and someone snaps on what we think is a flashlight directly behind us. It's shining right onto our blanket and stuff, and suddenly shadows are jumping all over the place at an alarming rate. We finally turn around, and there is a woman with a headlamp on her head shining into her lap (and our stuff), and she is knitting at the speed of light by the light of her headlight! (That's a lot of light.) It was so distracting, like a kid's hand puppet show on the wall, only all around us. Greg asked her to turn it off, and she ignored him and kept knitting at a blinding speed.

By this point we had had enough, and we left at intermission. We started laughing when we hit the parking lot, and laughed all the way home. Can I plan a date or what.