A few days ago we went to see Cirque du Soleil. Good seats, exceptionally good seats if I do say so myself. He picked them. He usually does good with stuff like that.

In the opening, when Cirque characters are wandering around in the audience looking for someone to fit in a colorfully painted coffin, their eyes lit upon Steve. That's right, Steve, the original Mr. Cranky Pants.

The characters whip out a tape measure. They hold it across his chest. I'm already shaking my head no, not because I know Steve will play his usual 'stick-in-the-mud' role but because I know there is no way he'd fit in the coffin.

The characters both shake their heads no in agreement and one of them asks him for a hug. Nice move. Steve stands, gives a hug (a first!) and they quickly maneuver him into the upright box. The problem came when they tried to close the lid. Not happening. He's about six, eight, a dozen inches too tall.

But he tried and that's when my jaw scraped the floor. He was smiling, laughing even. Sure, he loves Cirque du Soleil as do I (an important point) but he hates being noticed; something that has always left me confused. The guy is six foot six and two hundred and sixty pounds. Noticing him sort of can't be helped.

Anyway, they let him out and he sat down and had what he claimed to have been an enchanting evening watching the rest of the show. He talked about it all the way home and over dinner, and well into Monday. Monday night, just for kicks, he looked up all the places the Cirque was headed and from where it came and the cost of air fare to Montreal, home to Cirque du Soleil. I think he mentioned something at some point about how we should learn to speak French.

Then, for more fun, he looked up seating for the remaining shows here in Portland, which has been extended like it always is. Not to get more tickets but just so he'd know.

Tuesday night, he watched Corteo from DVD, including some of the supplemental material, and then switched over to Varekai, the show that came to Portland the last time around. I strongly suspect he's listened to the music from the shows on and off since going to Corteo. He's got all the tracks on his laptop and iPod.

I sat down to watch the Corteo DVD about the time the trapeze artists were flinging each other back and forth and teased him about the size of the guys doing all the tossing. He didn't smile back but seemed to watch with heightened attention.

I'm spending a little time today looking up all things Cirque du Soleil online so later I'll be able to spout off nuggets of information I know he'll want to hear. Like did you know they play to over nine thousand people a night at their Las Vegas shows, I'll say and expect him to open his laptop and begin looking up air fare to Las Vegas and seating for the shows. But if I know him, he will already have had this information tucked away in his head and will spout back such as if he'd just been perusing the web sites eariler today, which is highly likely.

He left for work this afternoon and I'm pretty certain he'll return home later. After all, the Cirque du Soleil DVDs are here, all of them, and I think he's got Dralion cued up for viewing this evening. It's his favorite. But if he brings home tights and a trampoline, I'm going to start worrying.