1 Mother 2 Another

I’m always looking for movies for
our movie nights that will be ok for the girls to watch – and
believe me, it’s a very small list. “Finding
Nemo” was shown to Maddie accidentally, and she stressed
about being lost or flushed down a toilet for several months.
“Beauty and the Beast” – the wolf scene is too
scary. “Little Mermaid” – the girls get through
it, but Ursula is so scary they don’t sleep for a couple
nights afterwards. You get the picture.


So a couple weeks ago I started running through movie musicals in
my head, and hit upon “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor
Dreamcoat” – an old Broadway musical recorded for
television starring Donny Osmond. The show was originally written
for children and tells the story of, um Joseph, from the Old
Testament. I know the show quite well, and knew it would be a hit
for the girls.


That, my friends, is an understatement.

There are few things my daughters like
better than a good musical spectacle, and let me tell you, this one
delivers in a (mostly) appropriate way. I say mostly because there
are a few too-skimpy girls’ costumes, but there are no
witches, no evil dragons, and no lost children. The girls watched,
enthralled, and immediately begged to watch it again. I of course,
said no. Over. And over.


And over.


Yes, the show is such a big hit it’s all the girls can talk
about. I had to download it to both my iPod and the girls’
iPod, so they could both listen to it in their rooms during quiet
time. Maddie begged me to let her watch it every day for a week,
until we finally hit the weekend and there was another family movie
night when we watched – surprise – “Joseph . .
.”one more time.


When they’re not watching it, the girls are putting on the
show. Turn on the iPod and away they go, with props and dancing
and, of course, much singing. “Go, go, go, Joseph you know
what they say! Hang on now Joseph, you’ll make it
someday!” Cora will sing on an ENDLESS loop. Cora will carry
my iPod with her during errands, holding the miniscule speaker up
to her ear to hear while I wheel her around in the grocery cart.


The show is put on at least once a day, and that’s not
counting the show each girl does for herself in her room during
quiet time. We read the Joseph story in their Bibles, we practice
the lyrics for the next performance, we discuss the finer nuances
of the Elvis-like Pharaoh’s big song. And I must say, I am
heartily sick of Joseph and his stupid coat. No offence, Joe.


I’ve been casting around to find the next big show for the
girls, and told Brian I was thinking about “Cats”
– though I have concerns about Maddie learning
Grisabella’s old and going to die. But I don’t have to
worry now, because when I told Brian I was thinking about it he
nixed the idea immediately.


“PLEASE don’t play ‘Cats’ for them,”
he begged. “I could barely stand the show the first time
around. I don’t think I’ll survive it three times a
day.”


He’s got a point.