Posted in Throwback Thursday

At least I’m shaven

What did you want to be when you grew up?  I wanted to be a flight attendant, a truck driver, a veterinarian and a teacher.  None of those things ever came to fruition, but I have never stopped wondering what I could be if I ever grew up.

Sometimes I imagine selling everything to move out to the country and live on a farm. I’d want to have cows and chickens and grow organic food and sell it to people who eat things like wheat grass and chia seeds.  I’d have a pasture and a horse, and a big enough yard that Sabbie could run for Frisbees without ripping up our small suburban lawn.  The nearest house would be a half mile away, and I’d call them neighbors.

When I told Bubba about this he called me a hippie.

Me:  I suppose I would have to stop shaving my legs.
Bubba:  I reckon.
Me:  Do you think I could keep shaving my pits, or would I have to let that go too?
Bubba:  I think that goes along with the gig.

There is always something to discourage me from my big ideas.  You can call me a pessimist. I say I’m a realist. A realist with smoothly shaven legs and pits.

Peace . . .

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Author:

Trying to make sense of it all and . . . for the most part . . . doing it.

2 thoughts on “At least I’m shaven

  1. I like that dream. If I were younger, maybe. Place for animals to run and roam. Perfect. Dreams change with age and circumstances. My legs haven’t seen daylight in 30 years so no need to shave them but the pits, always and forever. I can’t stand the smell if I don’t even with deodorant. 🙂

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