What does your badge say?

I think I was 9 years old.  It was important on that day (whatever day that was) to suddenly proclaim to the world that I was someone important. Ballerina Track star Fashion designer And so it was.  In my nine year old scrawl, I wrote those words down and made a badge to wear around the house–just in case someone might forget that I was a  ballerina track-star and a fashion designer.

So, if the spirit moved, I would plie and jete around the house, except if I wanted to break into a sprint or waltz around with a sketch pad.

As I was watching the Olympics and trying to sew a box cushion form, I mentioned to Emily (my clone-ette) that I was once a ballerina trackstar.  Garnering great confidence from the fast ladies on the TV and her rich heritage of talent, Emily spontaneously starts sprinting up and down the hallway with great gusto.

I told her about the very important badge I made, and I was quite surprised that she did not require one for herself.  My mother had one of those badge-making machines because she was a teacher and all.  And she was making badges for her students, so I could make one also.  I have a laminator.  I have a binding comb machine.  I do not have a badge-maker.

How are we supposed to know who we are without a badge?   I suppose it was the first form of social networking.    I vote to bring back the badges.

It’s so hard (even now) to know what I want to be when I grow up.

Just the other day, I thought it would be fun to be a taxi-cab driver.  Every time someone new went for a ride, I would have “fresh meat” to talk to.  Kind of like a bar tender without the alcohol.  But me and cars and directions and such.  Probably dangerous too.

But fresh meat is everywhere.  I could be a lunch lady.  A security guard.  But those all sound kind of … well.. not me.

Right now, my badge proudly reads:

Believer Wife Mother part-time everything else

What does your badge say?