The intermission was especially long, with boys hyped up on sugar with nothing to do but ask their parents to purchase one of the doodads being hawked by vendors canvassing the seats. The mother in front of me balked at the $25 price tag on a watch that would light up at a key part of the performance. When her son insisted she held up his Captain America motorcycle, “Do you know much this cost? $15.” Then she held up his popcorn in a box covered in Marvel characters. “Do you know how much this cost? $7.” Then she held up a picture her son had taken in front of a green screen so it looked like he was posing with the Avengers amid some rubble. “Do you know much this cost? $27. Do you know how much that seat you’re sitting in cost?” He shook his head. “No. Well, Citibank does.”