One of the goofy things I've noticed about being a parent is the tendency we have to gauge our kid's potential occupation by something he seems interested in.
Brody colors dutifully in his coloring book: Oh, he's going to be an artist.
Brody spends an hour plonking on my keyboard, which he calls a xylophone: Oh, he's going to be a musician.
Brody builds cars and skyscrapers with his Duplo blocks: Oh, he's going to be an architect.
But you never do that for the less than admirable things.
Brody repeats the same words over and over until you say it, too: Oh, he's going to be a politician.
Brody refuses to eat his lunch again: Oh, he's going to be a model.
Brody refuses to acknowledge anyone else because he's busy flirting with girls: Oh, he's going to be a politician.
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