So Kooka asks:
"Mom what do you think I should be when I grow up . . . a hair stylist or a NASA research scientist?"
And before you start speculating on what you think is the obvious answer here, let me just say, that I did give this considerable thought. All I really want is for my kids to be happy healthy, and fairly productive members of society.
I can see her doing either job, but Kooka is not afraid to state her opinion - often - with great fanfare.
"If your frustrum location aids, are made of anything less than the highest grade silicone, there could be an intake of O2 that could cause condensation in the range safety system, and a possible internal combustion situation."
or . . .
"If you really want me to put that nasty brassy color on top of your over-processed hair I will - I mean, it's your funeral. But don't come crying to me when your boyfriend asks for that engagement ring back because you look like D-list reality show star."
That is why I said scientist.
But Punk has also been asking me what vocations I think would best suit him (only if the animation thing doesn't work out). I told him that I thought he'd make an excellent teacher - maybe elementary - even kindergarten.
"That's a really good idea Mom," he said. "Because I would be like the very first person that these little kids ever saw at school. I would be the one to give them their first impression. I could help lead them down that path - I would be the one to help them decide if school is going to be really cool for them."
"That's true," I said, my heart swelling with pride at my too-cool 6th grader - (an A student, despite his grumblings) imagining the positive influence he could have on young students.
"And you know what Mom?"
"I'm gonna make sure that school sucks for them as much as it does for me."
Let's hope that animation thing works out.