Less Miserable

A while back I had the kids in the car with me and we were driving through the thriving metropolis of Payson, Utah. We were stopped at one of the many traffic lights in town (by my count, there are nine!) when my six-year old daughter Roni saw something out the car window that puzzled and upset her.

She said, "What is that? I don't know what that is. I don't like that."

I replied, "What, Roni? What are you talking about?"

"That," she said. "That over there. 'Less Miserables.' What does that mean?"

We were passing an old, closed down movie theater. On the marquee of the theater was a notice about a performance by the Payson Community Theatre of the play Les Miserables.

The Payson Community Theater thanks you for your patronage!

I decided to try to take a peak into Roni's imaginative mind. "What do you think it means?"

"Less Miserables," she repeated, trying to formulate her thoughts. "Well, I think that's a place where people who are miserable go, and after they go there, they are a little less miserable."

"Less miserable, huh?" I said. "Sounds to me like being less miserable would be a good thing."

"Yes," she replied, "but I still don't think I like it much. I don't want to be around miserable."

I then explained to her that Les Miserables (pronounced by me in a really bad, over-exaggerated French accent) was a play that her mama really likes, and that someday she, too, would probably really like it, as well. (It is, after all, much like Frozen, except with more incarceration, prostitution, and revolution.) (Okay, so they're not very much like each other, but they do both have lots of songs in them.)

Roni was appeased by my explanation. She likes shows. Someday she'll go see Les Miserables and quite like it. 

I really enjoy the time I get to spend with my kids. It's times like these that they make me smile, and I find myself being less and less miserable.