The devil wears a big red bow

In our never ending quest to bring light and joy to the ball of fire -- often at the expense of sanity -- we took him to see Disney on Ice: Disneyland Adventure.

At first, it was kind of magical. We went to Walt Disney World for Christmas in 2005 and had a great time. It really is sweet and fun to see your kid personify the word "ooggle" when Mickey Mouse suddenly appears.

Disney on ice was not so sweet, but he never missed a minute. I, however, could have done without.

It started ok, with songs from the "Jungle Book", "Alice in Wonderland" and even "Cinderella." Then we had a short intermission and that's when the trouble started.

The premise of the "story" and I use that term loosly, is the family from The Incredibles is vacationing at Disneyland when mayhem ensues.

The second half of the show was the demise of a delicate phase of my marriage. For some reason, instead of sticking with the well-known Disney classics, the creators of this nightmare on ice decide to throw in some more modern songs. "Cold As Ice" by Foreigner, "Dancing in the Streets," and even "Get On Your Feet" by Gloria Estefan.

But the hubby could actually feel the infared daggers from my eyes about the time that "Wind Beneath My Wings" started playing.

Wind beneath my fucking wings!? Are you kidding me?

After about 10 minutes of lazer eyes, hubby dares to look over my way, only to find me still glaring balefully in his general direction.

He dared to smile, sheepishly at least.

I mouthed a single word in his direction.

Pussy...