You're a Big Boy Now

¶ Well you never can tell but you're looking so well ¶

¶ That I gotta stop and say How do you do? ¶

¶ I know it's a long shot but judging what she's got ¶

¶ I'm hoping that my judgement's true ¶

¶ Hey girl beautiful girl ¶

¶ Can I look at your insides? ¶

¶ Girl wrapped up in fur ¶

¶ I'm just mad for your outsides ¶

¶ Mm that's what my inside says ¶

¶ If only I could walk up and tell her ¶

¶ But it seems so far from me to her ¶

¶ And the ground is so unfamiliar ¶

¶ Well I wish that I knew 'cause I'd be in a stew ¶

¶ If my little speech sounded like a phony line ¶

¶ I know that it's doubtful 'cause she's heard a mouthful ¶

¶ Of come on up and see me sometime ¶

¶ Hey girl beautiful girl ¶

¶ Can I look at your insides? ¶

¶ Girl wrapped up in fur I'm just mad for your outsides ¶

¶ Well you never can tell but you're looking so well ¶

¶ That I gotta stop and say How do you do? ¶

¶ I know it's a long shot but judging what she's got ¶

¶ I'm hoping that my judgement's true ¶

¶ Hey girl beautiful girl ¶

¶ Can I look at your insides? ¶

¶ Girl wrapped up in fur ¶

¶ I'm just mad for your outsides ¶

¶ Girl beautiful girl ¶

¶ Can I look at your insides? ¶¶

You absolutely must not use the book elevator, Bernard.

Who is she?

It's illegal, it's dangerous

'and it's only gonna get you into trouble.'

Reading Room main, Del Grado speaking.

'My son has just stepped out'

'of the book elevator, Del Grado.'

- 'Put him on.' - Hm. Double trouble.

Especially when it's your own father

and he has eyes everywhere.

Can you hear me, dad?

'I'll see you in my office right now, big boy.'

'Say, uh, Bernard, when you call your father dad'

are you really thinking daddy?

Hm, which is his real name

but inappropriate when you're pushing 20.

'I don't know what to call him anymore.'

Well, let's see. Pop.

- Too jolly. - Mm-hmm.

- How about papa? - 'Sounds kind of foreign.'

Well, father is as phony as dad.

It's a great problem deciding what to call your father

when you're all grown up.

You know, you could use his initials.

IH?

He's waiting for you, Bernard.

- International harvester. - He's mad.

Internal hemorrhage.

Come in, Bernard.

Sit down.

Your mother's here.

Why are you wearing your eyeglasses?

You promised me that you would never wear those.

Excuse me, mom.

Now let's forget about eyeglasses today.

- Margery. - I won't forget about them.

We spent $200 for contact lenses and he never wears it.

'I don't wanna talk about contact lenses, eyeglasses'

chlorophyll pills, bow legs or plastic surgery.

- I wanna talk about our son. - That is our son.

- Bernard.. - I-I'm listening, dad.

How long have you been working here at the library?

One month, father.

- Are you happy here? - Yes, pop.

Then why do you embarrass me every time you get the chance?

Bernard, Bernard, what are you doing?

- Lost my lens. - Oh, don't anybody move.

- Nobody move. - Del Grado, wake up!

- Get in here. - Yes, yes, IH.

Now find my son's contact lens. Bernard, sit.

Right. Uh, Bernard, was it the right or the left?

- Just look for it. - He embarrasses me, too.

But that's just the way he is. I mean, I won't blame myself.

- I won't, I won't! - 'Yes, IH?'

- Nothing! Nothing. - What way am I?

Damned irresponsible, that's what you are, big boy.

But you can rest assured, once aware of the fact

that one's irresponsibility is as just as much

one's parents' responsibility as one's own responsibility.

I'm sorry I embarrass you, daddy, and-and you, mommy.

Mom.

I'm even sorry I embarrass myself.

Ha! I found it.

- Oh, how nice of you. - That's all, Del Grado.

Thanks, Raef.

I'll wait till you put it in your other eye.

'Careful, careful. Don't.. Oh. Oh.'

'Careful, darling. That's, right there.'

'Ooh, a little to the left.'

Oh, there it is.

Oh..

Ready, papa.

You've been here a month.

And aside from developing unnatural skills

on roller skates, you've been a complete failure.

'If your father wasn't much your father is'

'you'd been fired your first week here.'

Now here it is, big boy, straight and to the point.

- Grow up! Quiet! - Oh, he's too young.

You're gonna live in your own apartment in the city

pay for it with your own money. What do you say to that?

- Terrific! - Oh, he's too young.

He's too young.

Margery, your lint is settling on the Gutenberg Bible.

You're going to be lonely

living all by yourself in that tiny apartment.

You're going to miss your, your room in Great Neck.

- I know you are. - Hello, Bernard.

Hi.

I brought Rover along in the car.

We better hurry, I don't want him getting impatient

all over the upholstery.

Rover.

Big dog, nice dog. Hang dog.

See how excited Rover is to see you?

You know your name isn't Rover?

You're my dog, I christened you Dog eight years ago

when we were pups together.

Who is that girl working in your father's office?

- She looks very cheap. - Nobody special.

Well, what's her name, darling? Everybody's got a name.

- Even Rover. - Amy Partlett.

Sometimes I really wonder who's responsible

for hiring people in that office.

Certainly not your father.

'Mother, do you like people's faces?'

I mean, do you ever really

consider them? Or do you ever think about them?

You haven't been spending your time

with girls like that, have you, Bernard?

I like to invent names for people's faces.

I mean, cheap girls like that.

Barnie Benzadream.

I don't like the way she dresses.

Willy Whileaway.

And the way she wets her lips

with her tongue before she speaks.

- Her teeth are crooked. - 'Lonely Lozenges.'

I don't want you to associate with girls of that kind.

Bernard, Rover is scratching the glove compartment.

- Dog! Dog. - No, Dog!

- You know his name. - Oh, that's alright.

Ms. Thing, Rover is just visiting.

No, he'll have to wait outside.

- Oh? - Well, unless you carry him.

I don't want dog hairs all over my building.

You're a nice boy. What's your name?

Tell Ms. Thing your name.

- Bernard. - 'Bernard.'

Bernard was 19 years old just 4 months ago.

Oh! Well, happy birthday, Bernard.

A nice room for nice birthday boy. Isn't that right?

Bernard, this is Patrolman Graf. One of New York's finest.

New tenant, Mr. Graf.

This was my older brother's building.

'But he passed away, and I guess it's all mine now.'

- Oh, I'm sorry. - Even his rooster.

He had a pet rooster.

'Oh, well, he left me everything he had.'

But in his will it stipulated that the rooster must live

on the fifth floor, unmolested, in perpetuity.

Oh, careful, Mrs. Chanticleer

my brother's rooster hates females.

He just barely tolerates me.

Shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo. Oh!

Stand back. Shoo.

Oh, look at that. He's already made friends.

- 'Ah.' - Ha-ha-ha..

Well, here it is. And may it ever be so humble.

Oh, I don't know about these stairs.

Bernard's right leg is one full inch

shorter than his left leg, you know?

- Oh. - 'I don't mind the stairs. I... '

And rooster, you say, in the city?

- That attacks people? - Well, not people, only girls.

Oh. Girls only?

The younger and the prettier, the more he hates them.

- Claws at their nylons. - Is that a fact?

- I think it's nice. - So do I, darling.

Oh, why don't you and Rover go in and look around the room

while mommy and Ms. Thing have a little chat?

WC.

Warring countries.

Now, here's enough for three telephone calls.

And when you use up the three

I'll give you enough for three more.

Welcome Communists.

Bear with me, I must know if there are girls telephoning him.

Bernard has not been able to deal with life yet.

And he's certainly not ready for girls.

See? Bernard baby, are you alright?