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When I Grow Up…

Submitted by Shannon on January 24, 2010 – 10:26 pm5 Comments

The other night, Jordan came and plopped down on my bed, all serious like.

He wanted to talk.

As much as he can be like Eddie Haskell, every now and then I see a rare glimpse of a serious kid under that grin and class clown mouth.

He told me he had been reading his Bible a lot lately, for his required reading.

He said he was giving a lot of thought to next school year.

“I’m going to get a 4.0. That’s a big deal, right?”

“Yes,” I said, “that’s a big deal, you can start next week if you want, no need to wait.”

He ignored me and kept on talking.

“A 4.0 in high school would help me get into a good college, right?”

“Yes, I said. (That a big, fat scholarship wouldn’t hurt either.)”

“Hmmm,” he said. “There’s just one problem. I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.”

I laughed a little and said, “well, short of being a rock star or football player, not many people know what they want to do when they are 12.”

“I think I’d like to do what you do when I get out of college.”

That got my attention!

I beamed with pride.

My husband is an engineer on a boat. I work in HR. He chose MY profession over the engineering? Wow, I was so impressed!

A few years ago, he and Chase had asked what my ‘job’ is.

It dawned on them that apparently I am Toby (?) from the tv show The Office, which brought howls of laughter.

I guess for the moment, it seemed Jordan had decided that being Toby isn’t so bad?

“What makes you want to do my job,” I asked, curious as to what had made heaven and earth move to such extremes.

“Well, you seem like you get paid pretty darn good, and it doesn’t seem to hard, and you seem to meet some cool people.”

I couldn’t disagree with any of that.

“Yep, you are right I said, all of that is true. You will know more though when you’re a little older.”

“I know he said, but I really think I want to do what you do.” IMG_3716 copy

Maybe he thought I was making out the family will that night or trying to score brownie points.

It totally worked.

He got up to leave, gave me a hug, told me goodnight, and started to walk out.

Just as he was leaving, he turned around and said, “Hey, mom?”

“Yes (current favorite son, I thought, your rank in the family just went up a few nothces…)?”

“What IS your job, anyhow?”

Couldya hear that popping sound as my professional bubble just instantly deflated?

Great. Good thing I’m not a pole dancer.

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