My dream was to be a soldier, policeman and firefighter. The first two were kinda easy, but we never think of the scary part of dreams when we are planning our glorious, successful lives. What good is a dream if reality has to sneak in and ruin it. In my dreams I never woke up wondering what the hell just happened. It was a dream, silly. Of course, I never got hurt. People were always glad to see me. I was the liberator and peacekeeper. There were pretty girls who wanted to kiss me. It was great.

The fireman, that was a tough one. See, I didn’t know it but I didn’t realize how terrifying a burning building is when you think about running into it. Stand back and wave a hose? No problem. Run into a building? Don’t know about that. I did a couple times, smoke inhalation is a booger, took weeks until I felt like I could breathe again. I’ll leave firefighting to the heroes that everyone really are glad to see.

So, I lived my childhood dreams or learned enough to know that I wasn’t the one to run into burning buildings.

Now what?

Daily writing prompt

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

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