Guest Blog Alert! Shattered Hollywood Dreams
So several months ago a work
colleague convinced me to submit Sebastian’s pictures to a modeling/talent
agency here in Chicago. I admit he does take pictures well, and he is
also cute in real life.
I wasn’t really into it at first
because I have zero time, and I don’t want to add lunatic stage mom
to my resume. However when I started showing disinterest, she quickly told me
about her friends kid in D.C., who makes a lot of money doing print work.
I put my cocktail down and said, “What is a lot?” Her answer was enough
to have me completing the online form that night.
I get a call two weeks ago that
they are interested in meeting him in person today. AWESOME! I was
very excited and somewhat nervous. I dress him up like an East Coast/
Martha’s Vineyard/ D-Bag, popped collar and all. He even let me put
product in his hair.
Blog: www.mothersguidetosanity.com
Come
on: Cute-a-rom-a!
Look….that kid needs to go to
college, and it ain’t gettin’ any cheaper! (Yes, sometimes I like to speak like
a gangster- really brings home the point). Plus with all the food that
kid eats, he needs to start building up a grocery fund. I will NOT be able to
afford his appetite when he is a teen.
Mi
Vida Loca
Once we arrive, the place looked
pretty nice and professional. They check us in and escort us to a waiting
room with about fifteen other kids. He was (legit) the cutest one there,
just saying. A talent agent comes in and gives a speech about how they
will take our kids to the other room for a minute to snap a photo, and see if
they do well with direction. In my head I am thinking:
He’s got this in the bag. He
is an angel, always listens, AND he looks fabulous.
As she makes her way to us, he
starts yelling he wants to play Angry Birds. I quickly pull my phone
out. I realize this is the time he usually eats at school and gets ready
for his nap. Sh*t! He better chill the F out, just for a few
minutes. Please Jesus! I start to get nervous, as he is becoming
a ticking time bomb. All five of the kids before us were asked to stay.
We are next. She approaches and asks his name. “Sebastian.” He
states with a smile. I am starting to sweat. Next she asks him to come
with her and grabs his hands.
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. He
yells at her not to touch his gloves, tells her he is not going with her, and
starts wildly kicking his legs. You would have thought she was trying to
choke him.
add
arms and legs flailing
The record player screeches, and
all eyes are on us. Me…. MORTIFIED. There are only a few times I have
requested a ‘return to sender’ on this kid, and today was one of them. (See
post: He’s Not Mine for another time.)
Needless to say that b*tch told me
he wasn’t ready and needed to reapply in six months. Even though my kid
was a disaster and she had every right to say that, something came over
me. I felt the need to defend and protect him. As I gathered my stuff, I
looked at her and said, “You know who isn’t ready? You!” I
grabbed my little a-hole and walked out. I guess my his Hollywood
dreams are shattered.
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