"I'm Bill Clinton..."

The big day has arrived. The Christ the King Catholic School 2nd Grade President’s Day Program. I’d like to say Max bounded out of bed, pumped for the program and ready to put on his costume but that would be stretching the truth. A lot.

As Max opened his eyes this morning he said, “Mom, I’m scared. There will be lots of people at the program and that makes me nervous.” As we talked more, I explained that he couldn’t let fear keep him from doing things he needs to do, or wants to do for that matter. I told him he would be the best 2nd grade Bill Clinton in the history of the world and that I had 100 percent faith that he would be fabulous. But that in order to be fabulous, he had to get dressed.

Max’s costume consisted of his dad’s shirt, jacket and tie, a circa-1992 F.O.B (Friend of Bill) button courtesy of my friend Christi, and a Bill Clinton-style wig. The last one on the rack at Party Galaxy. I’m certain that was a sign.

“I am not so sure about this wig, Mom. It is itchy.”

“You won’t have to wear it for long and it is perfect, you look just like Bill.”

As he adjusted his wig and looked at himself in the mirror he said, “I think when I do my speech, I will pull my glasses down on my nose because Bill does that when he makes speeches.”

Clearly, Max had studied Bill.

Before he left I reminded him again that he would be great and I would see him at school. “We go in presidential order, Mom, so I will be number 42.”

The kids filed in and sat in their assigned spots. I saw Max craning his neck to find me. He spotted me and smiled. I gave him the thumbs-up and he grinned.

After stunning performances by George, Jefferson and Abe, FDR, Dwight, JFK, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush and all the others, it was time for Bill. Max read his speech, sharing that Bill was born in Hope, Arkansas, was a lawyer before he was president, signed the North American Free Trade Agreement and that he is allergic to Chelsea’s cat, Socks. And then he smiled and stepped down. I could see the relief on his face.

As he spoke, I think my heart was probably beating as fast as Max’s, not because I didn’t have faith, but that is just what happens when a mom sees her child stand up and do something that scares them. As he took his seat, he looked at me and smiled and gave me the thumbs-up.

After congratulatory hugs, pictures and cookies, it was time for 2nd grade to resume and parents to leave. I hugged him and said goodbye. He said, “I did pretty good, Mom.”

No, Max, you were fabulous.