By Matthew Strozier

So get this: my 21-month-old son watched Shakespeare.

I was stunned. Success for me would have been 10 minutes of Much Ado About Nothing in Miami’s Peacock Park on Sunday.

We got three acts, even squeezed a few minutes of the crucial start of Act IV. We left as Claudio disgraced his beloved Hero at the altar. “Give not this rotten orange to your friend,” he says.

My surprise was twofold. The first was physical: Alexander had thrown up twice during lunch at a nearby Cuban restaurant (no fault of the restaurant’s), so it was nice that his stomach didn’t erupt once more.

Still, there was something else. He was captivated. His stroller seat was reclined and for long stretches (in toddler terms) he didn’t move. If only the same were true for me. I looked around, noted little flaws in the production, went to get a drink and thought of how much I enjoyed a movie version of Much Ado I’d seen years ago. He saw magic; I was distracted.

It probably sounds like boasting to tell you the story “about the time my son watched Shakespeare.” And maybe it is.

But there’s another part of this story: kids see beauty we overlook. Theater is magical. My mind wanders far too easily to truly experience that magic. At least Alexander can remind me.

When did your kid surprise you?

Matthew Strozier is an assistant city editor at the Sun-Sentinel and the father of 21-month-old Alexander and 2-month-old Rowan.

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