Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille. (Or not.)
Yesterday I dropped by my commercial agency for the first time since giving birth. I brought Will along under the guise of introducing him to everybody, but mostly I was hoping his massive cuteness would compensate for my lingering belly. (What's the statute of limitations on claiming that you've "just" had a baby? Three months? Six?) Lucky for me, it worked. As soon as Will gave that wide, two-tooth grin the agents practically shoved me out of the way to get to him. No "Good to see you" or "Glad you're back" from this crew. Nope, the first thing out of their mouths:
"So, is he going out?"
Is he going out? Outside the apartment? On hot dates? It took me a minute to realize what they were asking. Is he going on auditions. Meaning, will I let him go on auditions. Meaning, Do I Know My Kid's A Star.
We used to think about getting Will into baby modeling. As a dear friend reminded me, college doesn't pay for itself. (Hell, pre-school doesn't pay for itself.) We figured we'd do what our friends do: Stop auditioning when he turns 2. That was the cut-off. I'm an actor. (Or was an actor. I'm not sure of the statue of limitations on that either.) It's a Really. Hard. Life. I don't want my kid to feel the ick of competition before he absolutely has to. I spent years chasing fame, and while I still spend an inordinate amount of time pretending to be interviewed by Vanity Fair, for the most part I'm content to let it go. But then there's the other part - the part that, 20 years from now, could end up sad and alone, chain smoking outside of Mr. Chow's. (I'm Will Cody's g-d mother! Don't you know who I am?!) Show business can suck, and I'm a grown up. I don't need Bonaduce to tell me that getting Will involved is a bad idea. So what did I tell the agents when they asked if Will was going out?
"Um, I'm not sure I guess so maybe."
We'll stop when he's 2.