The Evolution of Coach

Did I mention how my super awesome wonderful husband took me to see Les Mis for our anniversary date? Because he did. Because he is super awesome and wonderful like that.

Poor Joey hatehatehatehateHATES musicals. So very much. But I asked to go see it anyway because I'm a brat like that and didn't care I know him better than he knows himself and knew he would actually love it. And I was totally right! It went something like this:

First Thirty Minutes: yeah, he was on espn.com on his phone, adjusting his fantasy football roster. I would have poked him or something, but I was fully occupied with keeping myself from sobbing out loud during I Dreamed A Dream.

Next Hour: Stoic silence, but he got to eat all my food because I was crying too hard to eat, so that wasn't so bad.

The Five Minutes After That: he was busy hissing at me to not start a fight (that he would have to finish) with the people loudly answering their phone, having a conversation, and then discussing the phone conversation that they had just had. Loud.ly.

Next Thirty Minutes: relieved that he won't have to punch anyone in the face, he gratefully snuggled up with me and played with my hair, and watched the movie.

Last Thirty Minutes: rapt attention, with whispered questions and comments about various characters.

Leaving The Theater: "I really hated it for the first half, but I guess the rest of it was okay."

Driving home: "That young guy? I wish he would have picked ONE style of singing. Half the time he sounded normal and then he would switch to that formal tenor thing and sound like Kermit the Frog. Which I guess is technically the right way to do it, and all, but he needed to be consistent."
(little known fact: Joey's whole family is super musical and they all sing, like for real. His bass seriously makes me weak at the knees!)

Telling My Mom About It When We Relieved Her From Babysitting Duty: "It was pretty good, you should go see it. I was really surprised with how great Hugh Jackman was at singing. You could tell he wasn't trained, but he was still really good. You'd like the movie."

Getting Ready For Bed: "That really was a good movie. It was just so sad. I felt bad watching it, especially at first, because everything was so messed up."

The Next Morning: "It's so weird, I can't stop thinking about Les Mis. What was Russell Crowe's character's name? Jauvert? Man..."

Later In The Day: "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again..."

Still Later: "You need to have your Honors kids read the book, babe, and then take them to the movie. It's such a good story for character, how brave and self-sacrificing everyone was."

Telling His Parents About It That Evening: "It was SO GOOD, you need to go see it."

Still Later: "I loved Les Mis. Seriously. I can't get it out of my head."

Even Later: "MAN that was a good movie. Who knew I would like a musical this much? I'M EVOLVING, BABE!"

Several Days Later: "Master of the house..."

See, I might be a brat, but I ALSO know him really well. I knew he would take me to see it if I wanted, and I knew he'd come to love it if he saw it. I also nearly died laughing when I saw this on Pinterest, though, because it made me think of him:

 source

Wolverine is on the run from the Gladiator because Catwoman had a baby at Borat's house! Bahahaha!