Another Musical?

We planned on being offended tonight.

Ever watched Southpark?

Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s masterpiece?

It may be the greatest comedy series ever. Nothing is sacred.

Nothing.

At some point, no matter how open-minded you are, they’ll find a way to offend you.

So, I was looking forward to seeing The Book of Mormon. I knew those two would be ruthlessly funny. My apologies to anyone reading this who is Mormon.

It was only the four of us for this one. No cousins. It was still light out when we lined up. I took dozens of pictures of buildings, plants, water towers, and weird-looking people (always lots of those in NYC). It was still light out when we got inside.

The show itself didn’t disappoint. It was funny, irreverent, and in some places, completely offensive. There was singing. Dancing. And Mormons. Man, they roasted the Mormons – perhaps not surprisingly. I mean, check out YouTube for what they did to Scientology and Tom Cruise.

However, it wasn’t a blow-out experience. Les Misérables was a blow-out for me. Chicago, a minor one.

But while this was time-well-spent with the family, it’snot something I would say is a must-see in NYC.

The-Oldest would disagree with that.

He liked it more than Chicago! He thought the music had a greater creative quality to it. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World and The-Youngest laughed a lot, especially since they know a few Mormons,

When we got out, though, NYC night was upon us and I love me some NYC night. At least in this part of NYC. I love the lights. I love the people who come out. I love the movement and energy (even if most of them are tourists).

At the subway station, we figured out how to reload our subway cards. Ok, by ‘we’ I mean not me. The-Oldest and I watched in amazement as the Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World got it all sorted. By now, she was totally a subway pro.

Or so you’d think.

Believe it or not, after about a billion trips to Times Square, this time, we couldn’t find the way down to the subway that took us home. Ok, by ‘we’ I mean not me, The-Oldest, or The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World. The-Youngest knew. He pointed at it. We said no, that can’t be it, and walked around the block. Twice. Then we found the way down. The-Youngest scowled at us. “That’s what I pointed to 30 minutes ago.”

I blame all the construction. The-Youngest blames us for being blind and not trusting him.

However, by now, we have also become proficient at crossing the streets. Sure, you can wait for the ‘walk’ sign to light up, but no one here does that and we don’t want to seem to be tourists and all, so we observed what is done.

You wait for a break in traffic. You look for a slowing of the cars or a space while all the cars are jammed up in the intersection. On a rare occasion when there is no traffic at all, then you stride across like no one would dare hit you. Keep your head held high and your eyes forward.

The-Youngest, well, that’s what he wanted to do since day one. He saw how the New Yorkers did it, but when he went to cross the street, his mom would grab him by the collar and hold him back.

It wasn’t until today that his mom finally relented and began to cross like a New Yorker.

So, being me, I had to tell him when we started to move, “Hey, don’t just stand there, you don’t have to wait for the walk sign. Come on. Move it. Move it.” He rolled his eyes at me.

Most satisfying. Stepdads live for a good eye rolling.

We all slumped on the couch and watched A Night at the Museum. I’d not seen it, but the boys and their mom had watched it many times. Honestly, we should have watched it BEFORE we saw the museum, but whatever, it was entertaining and a good way to end the evening.

When we got back to our place, we were done. Exhausted. The-Youngest and I had been up since the beginning of time, but even with the other two taking a break in the morning, we had all worked through our reserves of energy.

Luckily, we could rest tomorrow.

Wait.

No, we had another FULL day planned.

What had happened to our “make sure to take a day off?”