Question: What do you want to be?

So I’m writing the preschool newsletter up, compiling the answers of three and four year olds to the following question: What do you want to be when you grow up?

There are lots of cute answers, “a human and animal doctor” and “a spider” and things like “a baker” and “a pirate so I can wear a real pirate costume!” (clearly this kid hasn’t heard about the pirates who hang out around Somalia). But the one that sticks with me is this one:

Mandy Q. wants to be a princess when she grows up. (Name changed to protect the cute and innocent.)

Well damn, who doesn’t? Life is full of pre-Prince-Cinderella-level drudgery, so why not aim high? Kids know how to say what they want, and often how to get what they want. I admire their moxie, and envy their confidence.

You can probably tell that I’m writing from “a negative place,” as the self-help/therapy crowd says, and you’d be right. It’s a combination of stress, weather, viruses, and mind-numbing routine that has brought me here. (Hey avid readers! This really is a complaint! I rock!)

Sometimes life has a way of falling apart piece by little piece and before you know it you find yourself in a rut so deep you could hang up posters. And that’s where we are today. I know it will pass, but I could really use feeling like a princess right about now.

The mythology really is powerful, because what do we mean when we say, “I want to feel like a princess?” What we mean is, pampered, admired, beautiful, special and beloved. I mean, have you ever heard of a hateful ugly princess other than in stories by those masters of buzzkill, The Brothers Grimm? (Have you read these? Do you realize that most times at minimum one person is dismembered, salted and eaten? Are we supposed to think it’s civilized that salt was added? WTF?)

So the idea of feeling like a princess is appealing, in spite of the inevitable glitter makeup I’d have to wear. I’ve tried on all my shoes and none of them are made of glass. There’s no fairy godmother in real-life, and mice don’t turn into anything but a health hazard.

So I say, dream big.

In perhaps the most prescient, rational and realistic response, one young lady put it simply when asked what she wants to be when she grows up. Her answer? “Umm, an adult.”

My advice? Don’t be in such a hurry. You have no idea how princess-life your life is at age four.

Enjoy it.