TOYS R US KID

TOYS R US KID
At some point it became clear to me that I wanted nothing to do with the world and it’s people. I wasn’t a full-fledged agoraphobic, I just preferred to stay inside and, you know, watch a movie or something. I didn’t want to be a doctor, lawyer, a nurse, teacher a politician, a mechanic, a business woman, a sales clerk, a real-estate agent, or a secretary… When I was a kid, I truly, madly, deeply wanted to be a TOYS R US kid.

Something about life seemed doomed, even as a 9-year-old. I mean, why get a job? “You mean, when I’m not your kid anymore, I’ll have to buy my own food?” The stark realization of money, and rent, and retirement weighed down on me. But how will my life be spent… working? My inner and outer little self screamed “But I don’t want to work! I don’t want to do those things you suggest!”

I didn’t want to work most of my days trying to buy more things to keep my feeble existence hurtling towards boredom and more days of work and more days of paying rent. And being a TOYS R US kid didn’t sound like it was going to rake in the dough, so that is when decided to devoted a considerable amount of time to A: Trying to move things with my mind and B: Staring intently at the family cat and wishing myself into its body.

There was nothing I wanted more in life than to accomplish one of these tasks because if A: I moved something with my mind, then SURELY I would be able to travel the carnival circuit demonstrating my amazing abilities and from there, I’d be shuttled around the world performing for heads of state and pampered like a movie star where one day my quiet beauty would capture the wonder of some foreign prince (mind you, some cute, young one, not at all like the one Grace Kelley had to accept) and I’d spend my ridiculously lavish days buying toys for all the poor, unfortunate children who had none… and riding ponies.

Well, if B: happened, I could spend my days lying in a beam of sunlight, sleeping all the time, being petted sometimes, playing with toys a lot and never, never, never, never having to say, “hello” to intimidating strangers or unknown relatives because who expects a cat to be sociable?

But somehow, just somehow, I went on.