This excerpt comes from the blog of a character I often write. She is a multi-talented entrepreneur who had five children, who then unexpectedly over just a few years wound up adopting 5 more. Her husband, Kelsey, is a studio mogul and extremely driven, which is why this exchange delighted her. She has been with Kelsey since she was thirteen. Michael and Julia, the two kids in this were both adopted from India a year apart. Julia was often referred to as the tank when she was little because she was a force to be reckoned with.
I’m probably giving more info than needed, so just enjoy.
September 19, 2011
“Mama,” the four year old boy said as I was tucking him in tonight, “what I am going to be when I grow up?’
“What do you want to be?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he yawned, “maybe some train driver guy like that man at the farmer’s market, or I could make the snow cones or something.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, nor could I wait to run out and tell Kelsey of his son’s aspirations.
“You can be whatever makes you happy when you grow up,” I said, kissing him goodnight.
“I am going to be beautiful when I grow up,” the 4 year old girl in the bed across from his announced.
“That is not be your job,” the boy told her.
“Can it?” she asked me.
“Well, if you become a model, I guess it could be in a sense.”
“What is that?” she asked.
“That is someone who puts on lots of makeup and beautiful clothes and then poses for pictures that they put in magazines.”
“You are a model?” the boy asked me.
“Not even close, but your aunt Sirri is.”
“I don’t like makeup,” the little tank frowned.
I promised them they have plenty of time to work this out, said goodnight and went to find Kelsey.
“Guess what your son wants to be when he grows up,” I said.
He looked at me and considered.
“A fireman?” he asked hopefully.
“That would be a nightmare.” I shuddered. “Guess again.”
“Fine, so it’s obviously something that you think I won’t like, but which doesn’t bother you, so I don’t know, he wants to work at McDonalds.”
“You wish,” I laughed.
“A dog walker?” he asked.
“So just tell me.”
“He wants to be the train driver at the farmers market.”
“Okay,” he smiled, “and you think I would tell him he can’t do that?”
“I do indeed.”
“This is his only aspiration?”
“He might make a snow cone or two.”
“Oh hell no,” he laughed. “He can entertain this notion until he’s five but then we’re going to have to have a serious heart to heart.”
I knew that wasn’t going to fly with Mr. Harvard. I love how predictable he is. I also love that were that 4 year old to grow up and truly want to work as that train conductor, there is no one who would support him more than his father. It might kill him, but he’d do it.