My first thought in the morning is I will be Black Widow today. I will get up and conquer the world. I will fight crime and make this world a better place for my kids. Then I try to move off the bed and have second thoughts, mostly gravitating toward Advil. But PJ’s and my couch are up there also. This is when I decide I am a sloth and not Black Widow. Plus I imagine the amount of baby powder required to get into that costume would be magnanimous and didn’t I just see a commercial for baby powder causing cancer? Of course the argument there is what doesn’t cause cancer anymore. Wow, now I’m way off topic. crap.
Okay so where was I, oh yeah, I’m Black Widow. No, that’s wrong. I’m a sloth. So, when I told my best friend I was giving up the dream of fighting crime and just going for sloth she reminded me sloths don’t drink wine. Well, that’s a bummer. Guess, I won’t be a sloth. Plus I am thinking I might be too old for professional spy and the wrong species for sloth.
Well, that leaves me hanging on what I want to be when I grow up. At what age are we supposed to make that decision? At 20 I wanted to be a professional potter, you know, own my own pottery shop, throw on the wheel and sell my grandiose works of art. I’m pretty sure that didn’t pan out. Instead I got married and had kiddos. I knew what I wanted to do then. I was a wife. I had kids. I had direction! I home schooled my kids, created lesson plans for a group and did the books for my husbands business. Now my kids are in school and I’m divorced. I went back to college for an IT degree and got a job. I’m still not sure that is what I want to do though.
I had a brief moment where I wanted to run away with the circus, but knowing my kids they would find me. They are evil geniuses. They get that from me. Guess they will have something to be when they grow up. Well, now that the problem is solved for my kids, guess I’ll have that glass of wine and go over my new idea of being a “Super Sloth.”