You know when you're a kid and an adult asks you what you want to be when you grow up?
And most kids would end up saying jobs like "a police officer," "a doctor" or "an astronaut"?
You know, "normal" kid answers.
Not me, though.
It's one of my mother's favourite stories to tell.
Apparently, when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grow older, I said that I wanted to own a pink—the colour was very important—ice cream truck. I wanted to sell ice cream. In a pink truck.
Yup.
And then I grew up a little, and when asked again, I said "an archeologist".
Could you imagine if I stuck with that?
Where would I be now?
I do wonder.
Maybe when I'm retired and am bored out of my mind, I could buy an ice cream truck. And paint it pink.
Just to satisfy the little girl in me.
ESTÀS LLEGINT
Episodic memories
No-ficcióShort texts pertaining to my life, and/or thoughts I have that pops up sometimes. I hope you can relate and find comfort in them.
