Story 222: When I Grow Up….

            Child, Age 6: Momma, Poppa: when I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor, a police officer, a ballet dancer, and a firefighter.

            Mother: That’s great honey – now get ready for school.

            Child, Age 6: Aw, do I have to?

            Father: If you want to have any of those careers, yes.

            Child, Age 6: OK – oh, and I also want to be an international spy.

            Mother: Well isn’t that nice.  (Mentally reviews toys currently in the house for ones that may need to be relocated)

            Child, Age 10: Mom?  How much schooling do I need to be a barrister?

            Mother: That’s in England, sweetie: if you want to be a lawyer here, then you have to go to law school after college.

            Child, Age 10: Oh.  How about if I want to be a lion tamer?

          Mother: I believe that’s a mix between being a part of the family business and on-the-job training.

            Child, Age 10: Oh.  I think I want to be a politician.

           Mother: If you want, but be prepared to have half your constituents hate you and the other half asking you for favors all the time.

            Child, Age 10: Cool.

           Child, Age 18: Dad, do you know who I should contact if I want to work for a newspaper after college?

          Father: That’s great – I think I know a few people, and I’m sure your school’s career center can help with an internship.  Interested in being a reporter, eh?

          Child, Age 18: I actually want one day to be in charge of the Obituaries.  I find all those stories absolutely fascinating.

            Father: …OK.

            Father: So, how’s life in the obits?

           Child, Age 20: Kind of limiting, really.  They have me also doing features on local restaurants and community carnivals, and the whole thing day in, day out, week in, week out, and on and on is getting a bit repetitive.  I don’t think I can stay in this business for the next half-century, if I even last that long.

            Father: Have you been looking into anything else, then?  What about your goals way-back when of being a lawyer, or a doctor?  Or a ballet dancer?

            Child, Age 20: Dad, I haven’t wanted to be a ballet dancer since I was a kid!

            Father: And what are you now?

            Child, Age 20: Dad!  But seriously, I don’t know, maybe I’ll try doing the doctor thing.

            Father: “Try”??

            Child, Age 22: So Mom, hate to have to tell you this, but I decided to take some courses to be a CPA now.

            Mother: Your major was English.

            Child, Age 22: Yeah, but that can translate into almost any career – that’s the beauty of it.

           Mother: If that’s what you really want.  You do realize that this round of schooling’s on you, yes?

            Child, Age 22: Huh?  I mean, yeah, I knew that.

         Child, Age 30: Mom, Dad: I wanted to let you know that I can’t stand being a paralegal anymore and I decided to go back to school to become a physician’s assistant.  Or a nurse practitioner – you know, whichever.

           Mother: That’s great, hon, but are you sure you want to change careers so drastically?  It’s a lot more schooling, and what if you wind up not liking it?

            Father: Or you’re just no good at it?  (Mother lightly smacks him)

           Child, Age 30: I’m sure it’ll all be worth it.  I’ve always wanted to help people, and I know I’ll never be able to do the whole doctor bit so I figured this would be the next best thing.

          Mother: It’s going to be a lot of work and dedication, though, plus malpractice insurance – what if you get sued? –

            Child, Age 30: But Mom, it’s such a noble profession!

            Child, Age 35: So, I think me wanting to be a P.A. was a bit of a mistake.

            Mother: How’s that, dear?

          Child, Age 35: Turns out that, try as I might, I really don’t like people that much, and I’m really not that good at medicine.  Or math.  Or stressful situations.  Or life.

            Father: All right, you’ve figured that out, now what?

           Child, Age 35: I think I’ll go join the Peace Corps, or some other worthwhile cause.  Maybe then I’ll feel fulfilled.

            Mother: What about going back to journalism, hm?

            Child, Age 35: I guess, if I wanted to kill my soul!

            Mother: Don’t be dramatic; you have to do something with your life, though.

            Child, Age 35: I know, you’re right.  It’s the whole paradox of choice that’s getting me down, is all.

            Father: I can solve that for you by enlisting you in the reserves.

            Child, Age 35: That would be something.  Yes, I think that will do nicely –

            Father: Thank goodness.

            Child, Age 35: – for now.