Here’s the story…
Jerm and I sat lounging in the living room, he draped over the couch, and I slung over an armchair, Em the Tiny cuddled in my lap. The conversation turned serious, as it sometimes does, and we started discussing our lives’ goals.
Since I am already well on my way to becoming a responsible adult (I order for myself at gourmet burger places now. Yeah. Ever tried the McDouble?), I felt qualified to give the lad some advice.
“Well,” I began gravely. “Really, you have four years to decide what you want to be. Most people don’t figure that out until after college anyway, so don’t worry about it.”
He smiled, I smiled, Em smiled. It was a nice moment.
“Then again,” I said as an afterthought, “that’s a lot of money to waste, so you should probably decide before then.”
He frowned, I smirked, and Em smiled. (She’s in her own little world most of the time).
“So, basically…you have six months to decide on a profession that you might very well do for the rest of your life.”
He sighed, I sighed, and Ems smiled.
We discussed the pros and cons of accounting (he hates math, so that ended quickly), the delights of travel (can traveling be a job?), journalism (he hates writing – also a conversational killer), and ended up hopelessly with being a garbage man (no offense…that job just requires no sense of smell whatsoever).
The end of the conversation ended up with us staring silently at each other. Then, simultaneously, we looked to Em, who sat smiling fondly at the toy animals in her hand – a dinosaur, and a leopard, whom Em is convinced is an armadillo.
“Em?” I asked gently.
The dinosaur attacked the leopard/armadillo and knocked it to the floor. Em stared mournfully at the fallen figure. No reply.
“Em?” Jerm tried. The dinosaur leapt after the mutant leopard in a suicidal attempt to save his comrade. Still no reply.
“EM!” We both shrieked together.
“Hmmm?” She looked up vacantly from the tragedy below us and gave a brave, half-hearted smile.
“Em, if you could pick any job in the world, what would you pick?”
She sighed, but appeared to give the question some thought.
“I would pobably…” she began, then trailed off. “Pobably…”
Suddenly, her vacant eyes focused, and she said decisively, “I would have da ipad.”
While we were still recovering from the simple brilliance of her job choice, Em started bellowing, “I wanna da Ipad! Jacob, right here! Right now!”
She stomped towards the steps, heading towards the most possible possessor of the Ipad at the moment, then stopped guiltily.
“Pease!” She bellowed up the stairs, then continued up, a pleased smile on her cherubic face.
The possessor of an Ipad. As a job.
“And a little child shall lead them…”