I took my sons to what was probably their very last Barnes & Noble storytime yesterday. At five and seven, they’re really kind of older than the target audience. And they never want to go to the storytimes unless it’s a ‘party’. A party entails a story, a juice box, a snack (usually gummies or some sort of Little Debby selection), and some sort of activity: a craft or some publisher-supplied activity pages. For the parties, they’re willing to revisit their younger days.

So anyway, yesterday the party theme was ‘Back to School’ and the headliner book was How Do Dinosaurs Go To School, a short rhyming text by Jane Yolen, pictures by Mark Teague. Very cute books. So the place is PACKED–there are literally fifty kids there (I saw two separate booksellers count, and they had to go back to the storeroom twice for extra juice boxes)–and we’re all crowded in, kids and moms, trying to listen to this story over the din of childhood. So it starts off like ‘How do dinosaurs go to school? Do they blah, blah, blah–blah, blah, blah, rhyme?’ And this lady behind me starts answering these really kinda rhetorical questions in a loud, baby-talk voice: ‘No! No they don’t!’ Next rhyme. ‘Oh my goodness, no!’ Next rhyme. No, they don’t do that! Next rhyme. ‘Naughty dinosaur!’

I could barely contain myself. I thought this whole thing was hilarious. Every rhyme–she commented on every rhyme. It was like the bookseller was reading it just to her and she was talking back. Even my older son turned around to see who was responsible for all this crazy, disruptive talk. I’m actually kind of surprised he didn’t tell her: ‘You’re not really supposed to answer.’ He’s that sort of kid. Thankfully, we didn’t hear from her again after the story was over. She kept quiet through the next book, and everything went back to normal.

And now we are officially ready for Back to School…Yay! Although we still have one more week to go. Bummer.

Wow! Just finished watching Dreamgirls by myself, and all I can say is, Wow! That must have been an awesome Broadway show–maybe it still is. It could, possibly, have been a little shorter, but then we would have really missed out on some great musical numbers. And what a cast! Who knew some of those people could sing (Jamie Foxx? Eddie Murphy? Okay, well I didn’t).

I did occasionally think it was a little strange when the movie would reach a really tense moment, and there’d be a moment of silence, and you’d be on the edge of your seat, expecting someone to lash out. And then…they’d break into song, and the entire argument would be belted out by all interested parties. Got me thinking…what if we had to sing everything. Good grief–I’d probably never speak again. (If anyone in my family is reading this, don’t get any ideas–I have no shame in front of you people).

And then there was the part where Eddie Murphy’s character was referring to himself in the third person. “Jimmy’s got soul, Jimmy’s got soul.” Or ‘Lorelle and Jimmy are through….’ (sung by Lorelle). I swear I could not stop thinking of that Seinfeld episode where this guy–Jimmy–is referring to himself in the third person, and Elaine gets confused, thinks he’s referring to someone else, and finds herself stuck going out with him. “Don’t mess with Jimmy!”

Even with these little foibles, I thought it was awesome–I highly recommend it. Now I just need to get around to watching The Devil Wears Prada, and I’m all caught up. Oh, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. And Waitress. I’ll always be behind…