Her fingers were deft and sure as they flew across the keypad of the cash register at the combination gas station/beer cave/munchies stop/Subway Sandwich establishment in the smaller town a few miles south of my small town.
In front of me in line was a slightly graying gentleman, maybe 8-10 years my senior who was buying a bottle of water and a newspaper. After he made his purchase and skedaddled away from the counter allowing me to place C's turkey and cheese minisub on the ring-up spot, the young waif uttered the following phrase...
To which the fully liberated son of a working Mom mindset within my noggin replied, "why don't YOU become a doctor."
I saw the incomprehension creep across her facial muscles immediately, and found myself looking straight into the eyes of a person to which higher education and lofty goals which included something more than her small town had to offer was as foreign as the fuel injected powerplant sitting in my Canadian-made Japanese car.
I'll not bore you with how the rest of the brief conversation went, but suffice it to say, there was no way a middle-aged man, paying for his daughter's minisub with a debit card, was going to convince her that indeed, she too could become a doctor, a lawyer, a software engineer, a librarian, a teacher, an astronaut, or NASCAR mechanic.
And I can't help wondering at what point along the way in her short life thus far, had she convinced herself that any or all of these options were beyond her scope of reality.
Seems I've never really given much gray matter processor time to the old adage, "we can't all be brain surgeons," and how it may dictate the lives of so many people.
Enough for now. Gotta go online and look for a kiddie brain surgeon summer camp for the girl's to attend next month.