When I grow up I want to be ...

Sometimes I can’t make up my mind who I really want to be.

My wife, of course, would prefer me to hurry up and make a decision because the garbage is piling up in the kitchen and she’s got this “take out the trash now or I’ll break your kneecaps” kind of look.

It’s not that she’s violent or anything, but women do hate to wade through garbage bags just to get to the coffee maker.

Now if I were Captain America, things would be different. Tall, buff, handsome, saving the day for the good of the country. I could so live with that. All I’d need to do is exercise a bit, take a few martial arts/kick boxing lessons, eat plenty of roughage, grow about 12 inches and have cosmetic surgery.

On second thought, cosmetic surgery sounds expensive.

Instead, maybe I can transfigure my personality into Johnny Depp cool, Johnny Depp suave, Johnny Depp urbane. Women would swoon at just the mysteriousness of my smile. I could live with that. All I’d need to do is exercise a bit, learn to talk low and slow, get some tattoos, grow out my hair and have a little plastic surgery done by some Hollywood “Surgeon to the Stars.”

Except I might have a problem with the “growing out my hair” part. I’m good at losing hair. Growing it, not so much.

Well, forget Captain America, forget Johnny Depp. I think I could be a spy. A good old fashioned, James Bond, always undercover superspy, never showing my face to the enemy, thus precluding the need to grow hair or indulge in plastic surgery unless my cover is blown, but since the government is paying for it, what the heck?

I’m not sure what it would take for me to become a superspy, but I’d probably have to exercise a bit, become a master of all kinds of weapons, and learn to control myself in the face of obvious female seduction. Unless being seduced is a part of the mission, then I could live with that.

Until my wife found out. Then I’d die a horrible death. Buried under mounds of garbage that is piled high in the kitchen because I forgot to take it out.

Nobody would ever find my body.

She’s thorough like that.