After much prodding from Wise, Hoot has finally answered the “what do you want to be when you grow up” question. He wants to be a sign. Not just any sign, but one of those tall, balloon signs that advertise “Sell Your Gold here” and cellphone stores. They’re “Air Dancers” actually, as I just learned from a Google search. So Hoot wants to be an air dancer when he grows up. That sounds about right.
Our dog sitter and kid sitter is studying to be a funeral director.
[Hoot made me practice saying “kid” “sit” “ter” after I said baby sitter last night.]
I never thought much about how people become funeral directors. I guessed they inherited the business, or somehow fell into it. But our sitter feels a calling. After attending what she felt were too many poorly done funeral services, she wants to make sure families are better taken care of, bodies more carefully treated. Our kid sitter isn’t a kid — she’s over forty with a grown son of her own.
As I well know, it sometimes takes a long time to figure out what you want to do with your life.
I’m happy to encourage air dancing for now.