Walking A Kid To School

A friend of mine who went to visit her family for the holiday, asked me to walk a little boy to school, a regular job she has.  So for three days I showed up at Arthur’s house at 7:30 a.m. where I sat till 8 watching him eat, daydream and brush his teeth while his mother, before she left for work, barked orders…Ah-tha, do you have your homework?  Ah-tha, bring your plate to the kitchen? Ah-tha, don’t forget ta lock the dua…

AH-THA!

I still don’t quite understand why I had to be there that soon like I was watching the first act of a play, but gather is what’s expected when you’re being paid fifteen dollars cash for forty-five minutes of your time.

Arthur, who just turned ten, is the sweetest boy.  A little chubby, glasses perched on his nose…a cowlick with a shirttail constantly hanging out.  Took everything I had not to shove it back in, comb his hair and plunk him on a treadmill.

My maternal instincts, not to mention fashion sense, were awakened as if sirens went off.

He looks like a short accountant, or divorce lawyer, the kind with buttons that suddenly pop open like a Jack-in-the-box.

What I love most about him besides his good manners, is his lack of self-consciousness.  He has no idea he could lose a few pounds.

His mother, a tad neurotic, texted me to check his new pants to make sure he had no tags hanging.

Being also a neurotic, just with more of a seersucker bent, texted back…we’re already in the school yard and don’t want to embarrass him among his friends.

Connecticut dies hard, even when it involves a little Jewish boy with his price tags allegedly flapping.

My friend, who asked me to help, said I shouldn’t hover, just to make sure he gets into school safely, on time.  So as I hung back allowing the young man his space, I was touched when he waved at me before disappearing into the arms of one of the finest public schools New York has to offer.

AH-THA…have a nice day.

 

 

Advertisements

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Family, friendship, Home, humor, kids, Love, New York City, parents and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

22 Responses to Walking A Kid To School

  1. Rubenstein, Hal says:

    Very sweet !

    Like

    • Remember when you went to school? Did someone walk you? I tell him jokes he politely laughs at. Nothing like good manners. I can hear his mother…Ah-tha, when she tries to be funny it won’t hurt to laugh a little, like when daddy has too much to drink 🙂

      Like

  2. It’s sweet that his mother cares enough to hire an escort (no not that kind of escort….at least not yet!). It’s also wonderful that he isn’t self-conscious. That comes soon enough when he discovers he doesn’t look like the current boy-actor darling. Actually it sounds like a good gig.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. My first thought was George Costanza … and his mother!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Elle Knowles says:

    Sweet post. Ah-tha was lucky to have you by his side Susannah. ~Elle

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Patricia says:

    Seems you now walk people not just dogs. Maybe there is a future in this. Fifteen bucks cash…what’s not to like?

    Liked by 1 person

  6. micklively says:

    The economics of this intrigue me, or maybe I’m just being nosey.
    Why doesn’t his mother walk him to school?
    Much as it prompts an interesting post from you, I can’t believe this is enterprise worthy of your considerable talent.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I love the parting wave he gave you. Says a lot about the little boy.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s