Three minutes into Handel’s Messiah and Gideon had already crawled up into his mother’s lap and had his eyes rolled back to stare at the ceiling.

Five minutes into Handel’s Messiah and his eyes were closed and he was fast asleep.

Ten minutes into Handel’s messiah and he was flopped sideways with arms and legs dangling in all directions while his mom struggled to keep him from sliding onto the floor. It’s a wonder he didn’t start snoring.

An hour and a half later he woke up for the intermission with sweaty matted hair and a dazed look on his red waffle-printed face. He looked around at everyone with a strange drunken smirk.

I took his hand and led him out into the foyer where crowds of people dressed far better than we were stood in small circles discussing the beautiful performance. I smiled and looked down at the little man next to me and he smiled back, clearly oblivious to anything else that was going on.

“Are you having a good time?” I asked.

He nodded his sleepy head and said, “Oh, yes. This is lots of fun.”

“Good.”

“Yeah,” he continued. “I like everything. It’s great. But, well, Okay, I did fall asleep for that one part where they were singing and playing music.”

“Oh, you did? You mean, that 90 minute part there in the middle that was actually the entire thing? You were asleep for that?”

He squeezed my hand. “Yes. But that was the only part though. Everything else has been very cool.”