|Me as a pirate. Don't be deceived by the grin, I was really pissed off here|
because Mum wouldn't give me a real sword or even a scummy kitchen
knife to take to the school dance.
"When I grow up I want to be a cowboy."
I said those actual words. I did want to be a cowboy. I really did.
Oh sure, for a while I liked the idea of being a pirate, but turns out I don't like water - or more specifically the idea of drowning in deep water while being eaten by a shark. Plus, due to a dodgy eye I wore a patch for most of my preschool years and it turns out it wasn't anywhere near as cool as they make out in the movies.
It's not like I even had cool cowboy movies like Toy Story to pique my interest. I just liked they got to shoot at stuff and chew gum. When we were kids the must-have jobs were things like firemen, princesses, ballerinas and football players. But for me it was the chinking of spurs and the tipping of hats all the way.
I never wanted to be a banker, that's for sure. Most real jobs don't even exist in the eyes of a preschooler. I don't think there are many kids who at 5 or 6 say they're considering a job as a marketing consultant.
Or, for that matter, a radiographer or sonographer.
I only mention the latter because I had xrays and scans done on my ankle this week.
I've been limping around on a sore foot for a year wondering when the hell it's going to get better and avoiding going to the doctors. But eventually the pain (and Tracey's incessant and increasingly forceful 'encouragements' to go get it looked at) got too much for me and now I know what the problem is.
Turns out I've got spurs.
Which, as I see it, means I've kinda got my childhood wish after all and I'm turning into a cowboy - except my dang spurs are on the inside of my cotton-pickin' boots.
Ha ha, Life. Very funny. No doubt if I'd stuck with my pirate fantasy I'd have lost a leg by now ;)