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With a small child around, conversations rarely resemble the ones sis and I used to have. Yesterday evening was no exception. Picking up a long black tube, I'd cocked my eyebrow at her and asked, grinning, "Light saber or vacuum cleaner part?" Laughing, she'd responded, "Sadly it's a vacuum cleaner part; wouldn't a light saber be a whole lot cooler?"

Half hour later we were sitting in the living room floor with Mr. Pie moving back and forth between us, sharing his toys while having a very serious adult conversation about what he might be when he grows up. We do this sometimes because in my family, creativity and independence are valued, but we've come to recognize that those people who had a long-term plan and pursued lucrative career goals? They might have been onto something.

Noticing that our small companion was intent on working with his Legos, I declared, "I've got it! He can be an architect!" Of course it isn't lost on either of us that a) he's not even 2 yet and there's plenty of time before he has to be concerned with picking a major and, b) frankly this independent child with very much his own mind will do what he damn well pleases when it comes time to choose a professional path. But never mind that. We have to amuse ourselves, and it's interesting to observe his inclinations as he evolves into this increasingly-fascinating person.

Back to my declaration concerning his career choice. Eyes widening with interest, sis agreed, "Hmmm! Yes. Architecture is very reputable. And they make a nice living, too!" I pointed out, also, that creativity is valued within the field, along with other, more solid attributes. It went on like this for a few minutes, and we were highly amused with ourselves for some time as the child remained oblivious to our plans for him as he began to struggle to get the little block parts to line up.

Our attention was brought back around, however, as we noticed his interest had shifted. Having discarded the uncooperative Legos, he was now holding the light saber vacuum cleaner attachment confidently in his hand, looking around for something to do with it. That "glint in his eye" people are always talking about? Yea, it was very present. At that moment his find reminded me of a billy-club and I looked back at sis questioningly, recognizing once more that baby will one day choose his own career, "Or cop?" "No." she declared. "Samurai Warrior! Can't you see???" At which moment, her cherub solidly clocked her on the head with his weapon and I got to hear my sister, suddenly stone-faced, declare to her offspring with complete and utter seriousness in her voice, "No! You absolutely never hit mommy in the head with your cool Samurai Warrior Stick. Never!"

And then we folded laundry...