While I was on the phone with my mom last night helping her figure out how the crap to use her new computer (an iMac! It's almost cruel that these people, my parents, who have ZERO knowledge of technology have such an awesome computer.) she told me this delightful little story about my nephew, Gavin.
When he came home from pre-school yesterday he was talking to Ashley, my brother's fiance, about what he wants to be when he grows up. Here is the list:
1. A fireman. (A little on the dangerous side, but a noble and perfectly respectable occupation.)
2. A teacher. (Good solid union job, summers off. Decent choice.)
3. A canary. (They are yellow...???????)
Sadly, I am probably going to have to be the one to tell him how it is basically impossible to get a full time teaching job right out of school. Just call me Auntie Sarah, the crusher of dreams.
Seriously though. A CANARY! Not even I can begin to understand the 4 year old logic behind that one.
However, I'm not really one to talk. According to my mom, when I was the same age this lady asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said I wanted to deliver the paper. The lady was all, "Oh, you mean you want to write for the paper?" to which I responded, "NOOOOO. I WANT TO DELIVER THE PAPER."
My mom's response was, "Well, at least this way she won't be dissappointed!"
And I was not. My brother, however was a different story. He wanted to deliver pizza. The poor guy never learned how to drive.
2 comments:
I found some old kindergarden scrapbook and I said I wanted to be a babysitter.
That is so lame! It's okay, I still love you anyways.
Seriously though, how did we have such low expectations at the age of 5? Mom and Dad were Jedi mind tricking us.
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