Little Kid Hollywood.
Late yesterday afternoon I scooted out for a bit to catch a kid's play. This kid is one of the little guys that I visit once a month at the boys home I volunteer for.
The play was cute, and afterward I waited around for him, to let him know I was there. Some of the other kids from the boys home were there too, so I was making chit chat with them when from across the room I heard little mister Hollywood yell, "Thanks for coming, NEW JAN BRADY!". He was standing on a chair, pointing at me. One of the boys home counselors said, "He's too embarrassed to come thank you in person. I told him he had to thank you in some way." I laughed, until two seconds later when the counselor told me that NONE of his family (that he's allowed to see under supervision) came to see his play. I smiled again back at mister Hollywood, gave him a thumbs-up and walked back out to my car, crying the whole way like a damn fool. Like Ben Stiller at the end of Something About Mary. You know what I'm talking about.
The play was cute, and afterward I waited around for him, to let him know I was there. Some of the other kids from the boys home were there too, so I was making chit chat with them when from across the room I heard little mister Hollywood yell, "Thanks for coming, NEW JAN BRADY!". He was standing on a chair, pointing at me. One of the boys home counselors said, "He's too embarrassed to come thank you in person. I told him he had to thank you in some way." I laughed, until two seconds later when the counselor told me that NONE of his family (that he's allowed to see under supervision) came to see his play. I smiled again back at mister Hollywood, gave him a thumbs-up and walked back out to my car, crying the whole way like a damn fool. Like Ben Stiller at the end of Something About Mary. You know what I'm talking about.
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