This story I came across today about a group of researches who get paid to scour the Amazon Rain Forest looking for prehistoric ants got me thinking about the early aspirations my daughters have shared with me regarding their future(s). Our eldest, God bless her, wants to work with horses. Horses.

We live in Los Angeles and are at least an hour away from the nearest stable if you take in to consideration the commute time. I support my step-daughter in her passion for these large, stinky, beasts, but, it’s increasingly difficult to convince her that, although she can see the Hollywood Hills from our doorstep – a place that actually has horsey access – getting there is next to impossible if we want to maintain some sort of sanity in our household. Jetting across 12 miles of surface streets in the afternoon to get to some sort of youth horse program just isn’t gonna work with our schedules. The frustration factor alone would be enough that I’d be tempted to kick said horses in the nuts. (My step-daughter has advised me that is not something I’d want to do twice.) I won’t even talk about the costs involved with such a program. Alright…maybe I will. WE CAN’T AFFORD IT!

As it stands, unless her Father in Santa Barbara can hook something up for her on the weekends or over the Summer, she’s going to have to pursue her horse dreams via the internet and/or books for now. Perhaps Playstation. I’ll buy 20 acres of horse property when the means and opportunity present themselves.

My littlest one so far has presented equally challenging aspirations, albeit on a completely different level. When asked yesterday what she wants to be when she grows up, she stated “I wanna throw poopoo on your head.” Way to raise the bar there, girl. She’s an overachiever.