"Why?" I would innocently question my mother.
"Because you're picking your seat."
I suppose this was her attempt to use humor in order to teach me to either a) some manners in public, b) pick one's wedgie less obviously, or c) become accustom to the dreaded wedgie.
Now that I'm the wise old age of 26 years old, I like to go the opera and pick my seat for real! In our time together before she died, my grandmother would sing parts of her favorite opera, Turandot, to me. I googled it; its playing live in three places this summer: Verona, Ottawa, and Augsburg. The Met is also showing it in movie theaters across the US as part of their Summer Encore. I'm not sure which way the winds will carry me, but mark my words, I'll see this opera before summer's end.