What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

When I grow up, I don't want to be a fireman, a fruiterer or a farmer. I don't want to be a policeman, a politician or a polution expert. I don't even want to be a baker or a banker or a barber; a doctor or a dentist or a doorman; a lawyer or a labourer or a lifeguard; or a psychiatrist or a psychologist or a psychotherapist; or a carpenter or a car repairer or a cardiologist; or a telephonist or a teacher or a tutor; or a driver or a diver or a drover. No Sir.

When I grow up, I want to be:

• An Odor Judger (to test if the deodorants are effective or not, blech)
• A Furniture Tester (to see how comfortable that recliner really is)
• A Laughter Therapist (so I can charge people to listen to me cracking jokes)
• A Builder of Architectural Models (I could bring my kids to work and they could actually help!)
  
• A Comic Strip Editor (you get to see all the great comics first)
  
• A Shovel Holder in a Work Gang
  
• A Train Conductor (just so I can shout "All Aboard")
• A Crop Duster (in a light-plane, of course - I once watched such a plane go round after round over a field. Looked like great fun)
• A New Food Taster (especially if this job is working for Cadbury)
• A Manure Shoveller (because not even your boss will want to come close to you so you can spend your days surfing the net without having to actually shovel anything because that would be just plain disgusting)
  
• A Brail Smoother (to erase spelling mistakes in brail books)
• A Lotto Ticket Seller (because you get to sit in one of those cool looking booths)
• A Colouring Book Drawer (you only have to outline the picture and can leave the boring colouring bits to the youngsters)
• A Race Caller (because you can say whatever you want, as long as you say it fast)
• A Tour Guide in the Soil Museum - fair dinkum, one actually exists!

What do you want to be when you grow up?