That’s right. I am a movie star.
We spent Sunday afternoon visiting with Vin’s former boss, Ari who lives across the Hudson River. Her town is called West New York but it’s located in New Jersey which makes for a crummy commute but a hell of a view.
Ari is one of the sweetest people on the planet and one of those women who felt like a Mama years before she ever had children. But now she does have children– ages 6 and 3, both boys–and she’s really hit her stride. The kids came running toward us when we entered the apartment building, even though they’d never met us before. That’s 2 cute points right there.
Like all kids, the first thing they wanted to do was show us their room. I was instantly envious of their two big windows and their crazy insane view. My view as a 6-year-old was a driveway and a cul-de-sac. My view as a 36-year-old is a clothesline and the crap my neighbors have decided to store in their backyard, like ripped-up drywall and spare tire parts.
As I perched on his Spongebob sheets, the oldest kid asked me: “Are you a movie star?” This question officially made him the greatest kid I’ve ever met. He definitely impressed me more than the one who puked all over my office on Friday (true story).
I was very tempted to toss my hair over my shoulder and answer, “Yes darling. It is me– Reese Witherspoon. Should I sign your crafts table or your wooden bedpost first?”.
Instead, I said humbly, “Oh, hahahaha–no, I’m not a movie star.” Inside I felt like one.
“Then what are you?” he asked.
Trying to describe “therapist” to a kid is like trying to give directions to a cab driver in a foreign language. I found myself struggling to word it simply and precisely so we didn’t end up in a bad neighborhood.
“Well, if people have something that makes them confused or mad or sad, they can come to talk to me about it, and I’ll listen to them.” I explained. I don’t treat kids in my practice, and have not had to explain what I do to one before. I think kids think grown-ups come with three basic jobs: astronaut, fireman and movie star. I guess I don’t look like a fireman.
“Why do people make each other sad?” he asked.
This kid was deep, yo. Luckily his brother distracted him by knocking him on the head with a plane before I had to dive into that one. Sunday’s my day off, kid.
Anyway, we had a nice little Sunday filled with finger foods, wine and tres leches cake. I even got to pose with their dad’s Emmy, and prepared a short speech in honor of awards season.
I’d like to thank the academy for this tremendous honor, and one sweet little boy for making a nearly middle-aged social worker feel like a superstar for a day. Thank you.
God Bless America.