Now that little Albus’s ears are on their way to full development, Mitch and I thought it high time to expose the child to some rock. We spent last night at the Mount Baker Theater, watching a killer production of Jesus Christ Superstar that has spawned some stellar (no, make that awful) outbursts today, as we butcher the show’s highlights.
Examples include my hideous attempts at Caiaphas’s bass: “He is DANgerous…”. Mitch had a great moment with Judas’s wail, “Jeeeeeeezus!!”, while my mom called me at work to chime in with “I-i-i-i don’t know how to L-O-O-O-ve him…”.
The poor baby can apparently hear us all, muffled though we may be.
(Note: As I was typing this post, my step-dad called and belted out “JESUS CHRIST, SUPERSTAR, do you think *mumble mumble* SAY you are!” with nary a greeting. He then informed me that this was his second performance of the evening, as he’d just mis-dialed my number and serenaded a complete stranger.)