He was the cutest little trick-or-treating cowboy, all Clint Eastwood-y attitude. Really, with the painted on mustache and his brother’s hat and poncho, and the gun we’d found for five bucks at the second-hand store.
There’s just something about making believe you’re a hero.
When the boys were little they did the whole, I’m superman and you’re spiderman thing, their bath towels tied around their necks for capes. They had these Brave Knight costumes – helmets and swords – and they spent hours in the basement, battling dragons and each other.
They always won. The bad guys always lost.
Yesterday we spent the day in the city, the whole family of us, parents and boys, at a career fair. Table after table of displays from universities, trade schools, colleges. It was overwhelming and inspiring at the same time. Maybe the future is always that way?
The older boys wandered from table to table, chatting with the reps about the various programs that were offered, and part of me wanted to step in and pop the balloons, with my but how much does it cost?, and but what kind of job can you get with that?, and but do you really think that would be a job you would like to do?
Anything sounds good when it’s being sold to you, I wanted to say.
Just be ordinary heros, no matter what job you end up with, I wanted to say.
But I didn’t. I stood and listened and said things like that sounds cool when they talked about the film and media school that was offering a film camp next summer, or the environmental studies program that the guy at the table with the stuffed badger talked about, or …
It was a good day. A day to dream and imagine.
The whole making a living stuff will happen soon enough. Yesterday, we made a day.