Karl has been trying to figure out what he wants to be when he grows up for the last few years. Today he mentioned he might like to be a vet. After I stopped laughing I mentioned normally vets love being with animals and don't have allergies. But he gamely attempted to convince me it could still work- he could wear long sleeves and avoid getting hives from exposure to dog fur.
Tonight - maybe 2 hours later- when our sweet and ancient cat mowed annoyingly and repeatedly about her dinner, he discovered that no, in fact, veterinary medicine was just not the career for him. Perhaps when she stops licking the cat food off her nose, he claims to just be helping her find the dinner he served her sixty minutes previously in her presence, she can give a cat shout out to cats everywhere and let them know they are safe. I think maybe she has kitty Alzheimer's.
Only 1 million more jobs to try out.
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