And there will be a lava pit and invisible ants . . .

My apologies for those readers who know me and my family well as the content of the first few paragraphs will not be new to you.

The basement of my childhood home was unfinished. One half was taken up with laundry and storage. The other half was wide open, excepting the support poles, and could serve various functions, including roller rink. A good portion of the basement was consistently dedicated to my classroom. I had real textbooks (NTB), old desks from my grade school, a chalk board, and plenty of invisible students. And I was happy. I taught my heart out to empty desks, completing assignments on behalf of my phantom students and then grading them.

I grew up and, to no one's surprise, became a teacher.

My sister LAP set up a store in the room she shared with our younger sister Pita. Before bed each evening (while I was reading in my room), Pita was required to "shop" from the bedroom store before she was allowed to go to sleep. LAP would ring up Pita's "purchases" on one (yes, there were multiple) of her cash registers. LAP also had a binder labeled "Business Work" in which she inventoried things like our household's collection of board games.

Despite a childhood wish to work the checkout at Kroger, LAP grew up and, to no one's surprise, became an accountant.

My point is that sometimes career paths are chosen early on.

Of course, sometimes they're not. There are plenty of wonderful stories about individuals whose life experiences have led them through a variety of jobs and eventually--through some combination of hard work, serendipity, persistence, openness, passion, and experience--to surprising and satisfying careers.

As a mom, I wonder how, if at all, my kids' current passions and preferences will predict their future careers? I'm guessing that Little Bit won't be a Jedi and that Sweet P won't get a job crawling after and chewing on dirty shoes, remotes, cords, and crumbs.

But maybe our Bub will be . . . an architect?

He came home from school last week with a two page drawing he called his "blueprints."

Using some empty cardboard boxes from the Costco run, he began executing his design.

His little brother is allowed to help.

The next day he came home from school with more "blueprints." And more the day after.

Work on the cardboard model has slowed a bit, but conceptually the project is still going strong. Throughout the day, Bub shares new aspects of his design with me and Little Bit.

Here's what I know so far about the structure he's designing: It's going to be big, a mansion. It will have wheels so it can be moved. No grown-ups allowed because they will wreck stuff. It will be big enough for all the kids he knows. There will be a pit of hot lava for robbers. Also, invisible ants to attack those robbers. All the kids will have their own rooms for sleeping and fireproof robots will protect them at night. The shower will shoot out gold coins that are really pieces of chocolate. Big kids will be there to help with homework and to read books to little kids (our next door neighbors in eighth and ninth grades were specifically named as among these "big kids"). There will be a room for babies and a robot to watch them. I forgot to mention that the robots are fireproof and waterproof.

That's all we know so far.

Maybe he'll be an architect. Or a novelist. Or a security guard. Or a designer of robots. Or all of those things. Or none of them.

My job right now? To listen to his ideas, to study his blueprints, to honor his passions and enthusiasms, to teach him to work hard and dream big, and to make sure we all remember to enjoy the journey.

Do the children in your life express career preferences yet? Do you have hopes for or guesses at the future careers of the kids you know? How did your childhood passions and preferences predict your current career? Please share in the comments.