Whoever dreamt up Medieval Times must have had little boys. It’s dinner theater where you eat with your hands and cheer on a long haired knight as he jousts on a real horse. Yes, it is that awesome.
My three boys and their two boy cousins proudly wear their black and white crowns to show allegiance to our designated knight. In return, the knight graces us with several Fabio-worthy hair flips that while not historically accurate are entertaining none the less.
My youngest stands the entire two hours. Clearly he was born in the wrong century. Knight blood runs through his veins.
“This is the best night of my life!” says Ben, my 6-year-old nephew.
“It’s like Medieval Disney,” my husband comments as we watch the “wenches” hawk their wares: glowing swords, flags, an assortment of other items that will be broken before we arrive home to Cincinnati.
My husband pulls out his wallet and looks down our row counting all the kids. “I’ll take five.” The wench hands each of the boys a black and white striped flag with our knight’s coat of arms.
“Now let’s see some sword fighting!” A. screams and waves the flag wildly.