Hey psst. Guys. I think I’m famous now. It’s catching, right? Here’s what happened.
There was some sort of giant mix up and I was invited to bring my family to a matinee performance of Cavalia Odysseo in Toronto. That’s the magnificent Cirque Du Soleil-esque show featuring horses and acrobats, an operatic score and enchanting sets. Clearly confusing me with some hugely influential person, they invited us to attend for free AND hooked us up with the VIP treatment — front and centre seats, buffet dinner, open bar and all. Just stop it, Cavalia, you had me at free lunch.
I wasn’t clear on whether or not parking was included, though, so we did park around the corner and walk to the event, keeping-it-real style. I don’t want to let this all-star treatment go to my head! Ed and I then had to do a circus-worthy juggle involving two kids and a baby and trips to the bathroom and to the buffet stations and to the bar (for juice and water because we’re lame like that). We finally made it to our seats with all of the children, three bags of popcorn, one program (which we promptly lost — your memories are your souvenirs kids!) and my big purse (a.k.a. the fancy diaper bag).
The seats next to me were empty until just before the show started. At the last minute a family filed in and they just looked so familiar. Convinced we were seated in some sort of mom blogger section (mostly because of all the mom bloggers and kids all around), I was focused on the woman about my age. She sat next to us and baby Mary kept shooting her the most winning-est smiles ever. I made small talk with this woman and racked my brain trying to remember if I’d ever met her before. A fitness blog maybe? Is that it? She had a girl about Colum’s age with her and a somewhat older man who also looked SO familiar and then a younger man sat on the end.
Now baby Mary is a happy baby. She’s a good baby. She’s really the best baby anybody could ever ask for. But she’s still a baby and this was a two-and-a-half hour show at nap time. She got pretty squirmy. You know, that kind of over-tired, back archy, claw your eyes out thing an eight-month-old baby will do. Go to sleep, Mary. Go to sleeeeep. She wanted to nurse; I wanted to nurse her. I looked down at my sleeveless maxi dress and considered my options. THIS is why I had originally tried to wear a loose fitting tee over it. Layers are a breastfeeding moms best friend. You’ll never need a cover if you have layers. But the t-shirt looked kind of dumb, so I took it off on the way out the door. Whatever, it was a dark room and I’m clearly sitting in the mom blogger section, right? I pull my dress down and feed Mary … all through the show. She just wouldn’t stop.
Then, finally, about five minutes before intermission, she falls asleep. I’m cradling sleeping Mary in my arms as we pick our way back to the VIP section for our dessert buffet. “Did you see?” Ed asks, “Laurence Fishburne is sitting at the end of our aisle.” What?! So that’s where I know that guy from, giantly massive Hollywood fame. I am so bad with celebrities, guys. So bad.
The kids and I had to go to the bathroom at the last possible second and were late finding our seats for the second act. Laurence Fishburne had to stand up for us to pass. “Thank you,” I said. “You’re welcome,” he said. See, I told you. I must be famous now!
The very nice woman who I think may be his wife, actress Gina Torres, commented on how busy we must be with the three kids and charmed the best baby smiles out of Mary. Then the show started again and I proceeded to flash the Fishburnes non-stop for another hour and change. Mary finally fell asleep five minutes before the show ended.
