Tonight at dinner, Wyatt announced he'd like to be President.
I knew this day would come; you know, the one when he figured out how he could expand his bossiness beyond this house and leave his mark on the free world. I measured my reply carefully.
"Wow."
He smiled that smug smile.
I smiled that fake one back because hey, these days when he says my decisions aren't nice, I can laugh them off. But if he's President? Well, that's another story, isn't it?
"Wow," I said again. "What do you think the president does?"
Wyatt replied, with all confidence, "he flies Air Force One!"
Ahhhh, now we're getting somewhere. I exhaled. I explained that actually the President merely rides on Air Force One but a pilot actually flies it. An Air Force pilot, to be specific.
"You mean, the United States Air Force?" he replied, with a dubious expression.
"Yes, the United States Air Force."
"You mean, like the same one Daddy works for?"
"The very same one."
"Oh, well then I think I want to be in the Air Force and fly jumbo jets."
Whew. That was close. Now I just have to break the news to Jeff.
2 comments:
Loving catching up on your blogs. The kiddos are growing...as to be expected, of course. Hope all is well and that Jeff is proud his son wants to be a pilot in the USAF! That's a great post!
Maybe Wyatt and Andrew could somehow team up to be first ever cousin-duo in either the White House or the Pentagon? Andrew had six grown adults following directions that he barked at us from atop the deck on Sunday informing us of the pecking order in the Easter Egg hunt he had created for us. Uncle Leon and Grandma were the designated bucket holders and from there it got a little confusing but we were, for some inexplicable reason, all doing EXACTLY as he directed.
They could take on the free world together.
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