When I was in first grade I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up: a teacher. I think part of that desire stemmed from being totally in love with my own teacher, Miss Criddle.
Even today, almost 40 years later, I can still picture her: petite, clear blue eyes (with contacts!), her blond, shoulder-length hair flipping up in a That Girl curl, wearing one of those A-shaped dresses and a little cardigan.
I figured the way to her heart was to share a profession, so one day I asked her how much money teachers made. After she stopped laughing, she assured me that it wasn't a money-making proposition. By fourth grade she had moved, and I had changed plans: I was going to be a lawyer.
So I was rather intrigued the other night when Gus interrupted bedtime reading to tell me he simply couldn't decide what he'd like to be when he grew up. I put the book aside and asked him what his choices were.
"First a ninja. Then a secret agent or a spy."
Hey, at least he didn't say a lawyer.
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