Kids are the real deal. They don’t care who made your shoes or how many houses you own. They want to know if you have rocket boots, can shoot webs from your wrists and scale tall buildings while ridding the world of evil. They also care if you wear a costume (points), with tights and a cape (double points), and if you have a cool name like Captain America or Wolverine.
Once I saw Winnie the Pooh at Disney World being escorted to his next gig. He had body guards. At Disney World. A 7 foot plush golden hued teddy bear with an entourage waving people away. They were mic’d up. They were his personal bouncers. “Sorry folks, Winnie can’t stop right now” they said to passing parents, and children. Bouncers. For Winne.The.Pooh.
Santa can draw a crowd and loop a line around a crowded mall like Jay Z in the club. At Disney fans wait in 2 hour lines in 90 degree heat for that photo op with Mickey and the Princesses. At Hershey Park children will rush a human size candy bar and Hershey Kiss like frenzied fans in a mosh pit.
We waited in that line for hours. Note the autograph book.
Almost there. My poor son. All I have to say is that he will be an amazing (and patient) husband some day.
And the moment we had been waiting for…. Star struck.
Kid-ebrities are everywhere. We saw a teacher once at Easter mass and it was a bigger hit than all the candy left by another kid-ebrity, the Easter Bunny. Older cousins are another one. When my son enters the room, my nephews turn and admire him with all the awe of anyone truly elevated to another realm. After all he can ride a two wheeler (no training wheels), plays on sports teams (with shiny jerseys) and can tie his own shoes (double knots). And leap from the 5th step to the floor with a perfect landing. Until Grandmom shows up and is rushed as she enters, leaving trails of smiles, and happiness, and plenty of Oreos for her adoring fans surrounding her.
There was a time when yours truly was a Kid-ebrity. I would pick up my son from preschool and as I would enter the room, he would leap to his feet and exclaim, “Mommmmmyyyyyyy!!!!!!” as he ran to me with open arms. I know I still am one, just more under cover these days. As in I need to be at every event but on the sidelines, silently watching. I know the gig. Once in the car I can congratulate and openly discuss goals scored, and saves. But at the games, silent. I can talk to my friends, but must notice every play (there is eye contact, he knows that I am watching) and can give a nod as in “well done son”. But silently. A quiet kid-ebrity.
Let’s face it folks, life can get pretty intense sometimes and I am glad we have superhero’s out there fighting the forces of evil. They are all around us. Only not all of us wear capes. At least not on the outside. Inside we are rocking our rocket boots, donning capes and answering to names like Avenger. Just don’t tell anyone. I am supposed to be quiet on this one.