Shrek. The Musical.

We have had a whirlwind weekend. Weekends are getting more and more windy these days. Real life seems to start up again in September with a major kick to the rear. Get going! Get out there! There are things to do! Musicals to see!

Shrek, obviously, being the first one on the list.

My cousin, The Mathematician, is a big movie fan in general, and animated films are no exception. A group of her friends and family travelled to Great Big London Town yesterday to celebrate her birthday. And big smelly green ogres.

We dined at Spaghetti House, an Italian chain. The Philosopher focused on his food for most of the meal, in spaghetti bolognese heaven. He says I have posted quite enough pictures of him slurping down food on this blog already.

He may be right.

Here instead, observe the menu.

We strolled from Leicester Square to Covent Garden for the matinee performance of Shrek, and waited in several long lines at gelato shops along the way. (Waited in line only, note.)I love the big sign that say FREE!, with an arrow pointing to pieces of paper. Free paper! Let’s face it, that’s all QR codes are to me.

The Mathematician was getting excited before the show.

The show was pretty green-themed and also pretty terrible, we all agreed. Perhaps Shrek was destined for the silver screen only.

The show left a bit of a bitter taste in our mouths, so we decided something sweet was in tall order. Thankfully, London has all the best of the US food craze imports – cupcakes, M&M factory – and we found a frozen yogurt joint! Unfortunately, it was named SNOG. A snog, for the uninitiated, is a British kiss, but not a dainty one if you catch my drift. One usually snogs in a dark corner at a wild party. That’s what they tell me. I have limited experience of dark corners at wild parties. Call me a snob – not to be confused with a snog. ‘Snog’ is one of those made-up words that for me, sounds like it is. Onomatopoeic.  Which makes the whole snog experience even more unpleasant for me. Think about it.

But I’m a foreigner. We foreigners don’t ‘get’ a lot of things. Like a lack of dishwashers and tumble driers. Like Marmite. Like roads designed for baby ponies and not automotive vehicles.

But the fro-yo, let me tell you, was delicious. As was the entire day. Thank you for being born, Mathematician!

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