All this before we were even out of our neighborhood.
So, in an attempt to find a little peace in my heart on the sabbath, I put on a CD, and declared that the car was now a talking-free zone. The Husband raised his eyebrows quizzically when the opening number of Joseph filled the air.
I shrugged my shoulders, and proceeded to lose myself in Donny's melodic, "Any Dream Will Do."
Then, in a flash of brilliance, I announced that we would be watching Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tonight for family night.
Groans immediately filled the air.
[And they all came from the Husband.]
His protests were naturally matched by those of his boys. I was preparing to dig in my heels for battle, when suddenly, from the back seat, a tiny little girl voice spoke up.
"But, Dad, aren't we supposed to be flexible and try new things?"
His very words to them less than 12 hours before, when a plate of foreign-looking food was placed in front of them, had now come back to haunt him. I smiled sweetly, awaiting his reply.
I'm pretty sure that grunt and roll of the eyes was his surrender.
And so tonight we all watched Joseph. Two of us loved it; three of us didn't. Any guesses who loved it?
Although, how anyone could not love this is beyond me:
[Note to self: Must stop posting pictures of half-nekkid men on the blog. Eh, maybe tomorrow. This is just too delicious. And it's about the Bible, after all. How wrong can that be?]