I Want To Be A Pony

"When I grow up, I want to be Princess." I said.

Emily (4) giggled and took a big lick from her chocolate ice cream cone. Her face was covered in chocolate. It had dripped down her chin and splattered her pink t-shirt.

"But Mommy, you're already grown up." Emily said.

"Then I must be a Princess." I smiled.

Emily's eyes grew large and her grin widened. "Mommy, you ARE a Princess."

I pulled her close and hugged her tight. "So are you, little one."

Eric (7) had been sitting across the table listening. He hadn't spoken in about ten minutes. This was unusual coming from a kid who normally didn't stop talking unless he was sleeping. He appeared deep in though as he scooped another spoonful of brownie sundae into his mouth.

"What are you going to be when you grow up?" I asked him. I expected Eric to say something exciting, like a fireman or a space ranger.

"I'm not sure." He said. "I think I'd like to keep my options open. What did you really want to be when you grew up?"

I tried to remember. It was so long ago. An eternity. I tried to picture the seven year old me. I saw the little girl with light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing a plaid jumper with a white blouse. I remembered playing with my stuffed dogs and dolls.

But I couldn't remember what I wanted to be. Then it hit me. "I wanted to be a racecar driver." I told Eric.

Now I had Eric's attention. He leaned in closer to listen.

"When I was little, there was a race track about a mile from my house. Every Saturday night from May to September, I would sit on the front steps with my sisters. For hours before the race, big trailers towing racecars would drive by. We would wave and cheer at the pit crews."

"One night my Dad took me to see a race. I had been begging to go for weeks. When we arrived, we sat on wooden benches on the side of a hill. Below I could see the oval dirt track. I could smell oil and exhaust. I could hear the revving of the engines in the pit."

"Then the cars lined up in twos. They circled the track once, slowly, as if they were marching together in a parade. Then a man raised a flag and waved it."

"The cars zoomed forward. The buzzing of the engines was so loud I could feel it in my chest. It made my heart beat fast."

Eric, Emily and Beth (2) were quiet now, captivated by my story. It had never occurred to them that their Mommy had a life before they were born.

"Why didn't you become a race car driver?" Eric finally asked.

I laughed. "Because I am afraid of things that move too fast."

We sat licking our ice cream cones. After a few minutes of silence, Eric looked up and said. "I want to be a cowboy when I grow up."

Good kid, I thought. Stretch that imagination. Give it plenty of exercise. Feed it. Nurture it. Let it grow.

I smiled at Beth who was bouncing in her seat. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Beth popped up and down, barely able to contain her excitement. "I want to be a pony."

Then we were all laughing again.