D-D-D-D-Dora

No, no, I kid. It was fine. It was thrilling for D to watch Dora, Boots, Benny, Isa, Tico, Swiper, Backpack, Map, and some random stars (?) dance and sing on stage. I took him to two concerts when we was two (The Wiggles and Imagination Movers), so this was his first one as a three-year-old. He definitely got a LOT more out of it this year.

Me? Oh, I was more interested in the costumes, and wondered if there were girls inside the girl characters and boys inside the boys, or just a random mix. I also tried to peek backstage (we were really close to the front), because I love backstage-y moments. There was a bit of actual dancing (mainly with the background characters, like the numbers), so I loved those moments.

As a show, no, it wasn’t as good as the Imagination Movers. Their show was absolutely amazing, and was a legitimately good rock show for the parents to enjoy, too. It also lacked the flash of The Wiggles’ show, which was staged and presented extremely well (even though it wasn’t a favourite, since we’re not big Wiggles-watchers in our house).

The Dora show was … exactly like the TV show. 

I don’t care for the TV show.

So …

But D loved it, and that’s what counts. He was really excited during the first act, but his excitement went to cosmic level during intermission. I think the sugar from the ice cream at the restaurant beforehand (and, uh, the 7-Up, not gonna lie) kicked in, and he was going ballastic with joy as he waited “for da lights to come off again and the curtains TO OPEN AGAIN and DORA come out again!”

D could barely keep still, he was so excited

I love special one-on-one dates with my boy, and it was a great event. I only wish it had ended a little better. Because, uh, you know, as soon as the show ended, he happily declared “I want to watch it AGAIN!” and then I had to explain the whole LIVE THEATRE thing.

The mom in front of me chuckled sympathetically and said “It’s not a DVR.” Oh, but wouldn’t it be great if it WAS? (I would watch Wicked eighty times in a row, and then binge-watch Phantom, The Book of Mormon, and Avenue Q).

But poor D just wanted more. He sobbed “I want Dora and da concert AGAINNNN!” prettttttty much nonstop from when I dragged him up the aisle of the theatre until I deposited him in his bed, here at home. That also involved dragging/carrying him through a massive university campus to our very-far-away parking spot, and an 80-minute drive home.

Thanks for the fun, Dora. The next time you have a concert, can you maybe play FOREVER so I can avoid dealing with a tantrum like that? Or maybe just come home with us? Thanks in advance.

xoxo