Don’t laugh. Really. I beg of you … though you probably will … and that’s OK. At least I know I will have made someone else smile today …
When I was growing up I, unlike most of the other middle-class girls in my neighborhood, did not want to be a princess. Nope. Not me. I never wanted to be a police officer, a fire fighter or a football player either—of course those were the common aspirations of most of the boys I knew, not the girls—not then. I suppose I flirted with the idea of being a model … but that was when I was a teenager and figured since I had had a few token runs at walking the short—the very short—catwalk for local retailers and charities alike, that I would also make it big in Milan. Alas, the Ford Agency never called (insert loud sigh).
Did I want to be a teacher? Nah. Even at a young age I knew I didn’t have the patience for that. A doctor or a nurse? Nope. Neither. An Olympic athlete? … well, I was a fan of Nadia Comaneci and sported the Dorothy Hamill hairdo like every other third-grade girl at the time, but nah. That wasn’t my plan. Not when I was very young at least.
I know the suspense is killing you—well, maybe not, but here’s the part where you might want to laugh a bit … and that’s OK, like I said. Me … I wanted to be ditch digger imagine how proud my mother must have been when I told her. See I have a very vivid memory of watching Grover (yes, from Sesame Street) digging a ditch (“D” must have been the letter of the day) and at the bottom of the ditch, way, way, way underground, you know what he found … a hidden treasure. A big ol’ box of pirate’s booty. So yup, I decided I was going to be a ditch digger—but I became a writer. Maybe I should write a book about a little girl who wanted to be a ditch digger? Maybe it would be a hit with today’s young girls.
Oddly enough I hate doing yard work. The thought of dirt—like actual dirt—under my fingernails makes me cringe. But I guess that’s what the gloves are for. Oh, and for the record, while I have yet to dig a ditch anywhere, I have found the only treasure I could ever ask for, my family—my children, my husband … they mean the world to me. And I would dig ditches searching for treasures any ol’ day for them … that is so long as I could wear gloves.
Today’s post brought to you by the letter “D” … well, not really : ) Today’s post inspired by The Daily Prompt: When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up? Cover image created with Google AI.
DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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