Once upon a time, I had an Algebra teacher who, well, let's just say there was a bit of a personality conflict. He was too smart to teach such a lowly subject and lorded his intelligence over us freshman slugs. And I was simply too sassy for my own good. Most of his discussions with me started something like this...
'Miss Bergman, lets have a frank and earnest talk. I'll be Frank, and you be Earnest.'
And that about covers everything I learned in that class. Oh, and a few phrases from the incredibly cute foreign exchange student.
Those memories are mostly faded like old pictures now, yellowed edges and fuzzy images. But when my son came to me today and started the following conversation with the word 'frankly', for some reason, the days of Mr Mean Algebra Teacher's class leaped to the fore.
'Frankly, Mom, I want to be a policeman when I grow up. Or a pastor.'
I smiled, both at his topic of choice and at the thought of my Algebra teacher's somewhat bored/exasperated face as he started yet another conversation with me, and inquired further into Thomas' thoughts on these two professions. They were filled with five year old idealism.
'Well, a policeman gets to drive a car with lights on it and they are tall. And a pastor get to talk a lot and go see lots of people play games.'
He continued on with his descriptions, making both callings sound so magnificent, who wouldn't want to be those people?
Sarah Grace and Elizabeth wandered in while Thomas and I were talking. They were very quick to tell me what they wanted to be when they grew up, too.
'Mommy, um, I am going to be an artist when I grow up. Because I am already one. And a Mommy with lots of kids like you have and do hand prints like you do. And we will eat a lot of ice cream and read books a lot.,' exclaimed Sarah Grace.
'And I'm gonna be an artist when I grow up and a Mommy like you, Mommy. And a super hero,' said Elizabeth.
Because obviously, Super Heros and Mommys are incredibly alike. Now what'd I do with my cape?