Daily writing prompt

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

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So, it didn’t happen when I was five. I didn’t want to be anything then. I was just vibing in my kindergarten class with Mrs. Lewis (best kindergarten teacher ever), cutting out construction paper with those giant, rounded plastic kiddie scissors that literally don’t cut anything.

But let me backtrack. By kindergarten, I should add, my hopes of becoming a doctor had been dashed- my doctor kit (not the Fisher Price variety, that would come later, this one was much cooler, like the black satchel that doctor’s used for house visits only smaller, since I was indeed a four-year-old)- had been stolen while I was at nursery school. I was devastated. So that was it. I was not meant to be a doctor. I had not manifested my wishes appropriately, apparently.

By kindergarten then, I was taking some time to find myself, taking the year off so to speak, waiting for the universe to guide me. I lacked the necessary crystals and incense, but spent a lot of time playing outside, with dirt and rocks.

It would take some time. I was in a Catholic school. Spent a couple mornings in mass. Surrounded by nuns. So it only made sense then, that eventually, I would want to become a nun.

It was short-lived. But once upon a time, that’s what I wanted to be!