Possible Career Directions

We created the Best Pretend Game Ever this afternoon. It’s called “Spa.” Two people flop out on a big bed while a third person alternates between walking on their bed and giving a full body massage. Then the massage-ees flop over and get more massaging. Then everyone rotates once. What’s wonderful is that my kids could walk on my back endlessly. Which is excellent, because I can lie on my bed endlessly.

Of course, I eventually had to take a turn giving a massage, but we decided it was best to skip the back-walking. Actually, M wanted to go for it at first. Then she paused and said, “Wait, how much do you weigh?” I assured her that I weighed at least a hundred pounds, and she hastily thought better of it. Anyway, that’s one possible career: masseuse.

As for J, there’s always the decorator possibility. I’ve mentioned before that J is a pint-sized Martha Stewart, and recently she decided that the ugly concrete stairs to our back door are simply too dreary. So she chalked on a lovely faux runner. Nice, right?

Meanwhile, M asked me if she would be dissecting frogs in her future academic career. “Well. . . probably they will have that as part of a class,” I answered gently, not sure if her reaction was more like to be: A) Gross, that will be yucky, or B) Oh, no! The poor adorable frog! I mean, within my world, those are pretty much the two possible reactions. Instead she said, “Yay! We’ll be able to look at their guts and stuff!” Encouraged, I told her that it was likely that she’d encounter a fetal pig or two as well, and she was even more excited. I couldn’t believe it. Especially because if I ever try to, say, explain how digestion works, she says, “Yuck! I don’t want to hear it.” I shared my surprise and she put on her my-mother-is-a-dimwit face and patiently explained, “Mom, I don’t want to hear about humans. But those are frogs and pigs.” Oh, right. So, veterinarian-not-doctor? Today’s talk reminds me of the time she was in preschool and asked me how a hamburger was made. I (a somewhat guilt-ridden omnivore) explained in a brief and neutral manner, then followed it up with, “So. . . what do you think about that?” And she swallowed with and replied, “I think this sure tastes like a good chopped-up cow!”