When I Grow Up, I Want To Be....

Oh, the shame of it. I couldn't possibly say it out loud. Could I? The dreams of a little girl....

So very different than the Mature, Mild-Mannered adult I've become. Surely it couldn't reflect badly on me now?

Still. There's that part of me, that eensy-weensy part of me that thinks it would be a hoot. If only '70's TV shows were still a part of all our lives...

I'd be a Solid Gold Dancer.

It was around this time of life, my Solid Gold Dancer years, that another career line hit me. I was reading a newspaper story. (Here's a visual for your laughing pleasure: I was sitting there on a faux-leather couch in our dark-paneled living room with orange shag carpet and ten-pound dial telephone next to me. My hair was down to the backs of my knees, parted down the middle Marsha Brady-style, and wearing those little socks with the fuzzy balls at the ankles.)
The article was about income levels and it listed all sorts of careers. Near the top was one that sounded easy enough to do, and boy oh boy, did it bring in lots of money! So I called to my Mom, "I've changed my mind for my future goals. When I grow up, I want to be... a Call Girl!"

My Mom sprang through the strands of beads separating every room of the house, and, still half-wound up in them, asked, "WHAT?!?"

I knew something was amiss because her mood ring went black.

"Er...nothing," I managed, the light from the lava lamp churning like my stomach.

That night we gathered around our big 24 inch TV that was thicker than it was wide and as I watched those beautiful, swishing-at-their-butts dancers in their fringed gold outfits, I thought, Heck, I don't want to make phone calls for a living, anyway.

Question of the Week

If you've followed the comments section of my Mystery Trip post of a few days ago, it appears that at least a few of us Write-Brainers had some, er, odd dreams and aspirations as children. (Lori and I are now contemplating a Mack truck road trip up to Boni's folks' place, for an afternoon of bagging and a return trip through as many weigh stations as will take us. If we're wearing Laura Ingalls Wilder sunbonnets at the time, it will constitute my Complete Childhood Fantasies Fulfillment Trip. Though presumably we might get some odd looks at the truck stops.)

Anyway, this week's question: What were some of your slightly odd childhood fantasies?

Write Brainers, go ahead and chime in with your posts. Readers, feel free to pipe up in the comments sections. This is a bit of a silly topic, to be sure; but getting back into your childhood head can help you in your writing for children.

So go ahead and trip down memory lane, and see what jumps out at you. Just watch out for the Mack trucks!