I'm setting the bar really high for these kids.

My children have reached the age where they start having aspirations of their adulthood, like, "Mom, I'm going to marry you when I grow up." And other such totally acceptable situations.

Logan's recent dream is to be a police officer. Totally respectable and honorable. Every time we see a police car, he remarks that he is going to "drive one of those," and every time we hear a siren, he says he is going to "use one of those," and when he sees his brother stealing his gum, he says he can't wait until he's a police officer so he can arrest him.

But, then, like a laid-off government employee, Logan decided that he wanted a collection of jobs for when he gets older. The next installment became a fascination for him during swim lessons. He wanted to be a lifeguard. I think mostly relating to a police officer and this heir of entitlement, he just wants to blow a whistle at kids that are running when they aren't supposed to. And I think the chair on a pedestal is also very appealing from a short kid's perspective.

So now, we find ourselves with the newest job to add to his list. But let me preface with why he wants this job, so you might be a little more understanding. We stopped at Dairy Queen to get ice cream cones one day, and there was this mysterious door. It had posters on it of delicious, hand-dipped chocolate and butterscotch ice cream cones, strategically-placed fog around a bunch of ice cream sandwiches being clutched in the hand of a cute little penguin, and a nearly life-size bowl of the biggest banana split this poor 5-year old has ever seen. His eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"Where does that door go?" He thought the stairway to heaven resided just on the other side of this awesome - yet forbidden - door. He just needed to get to the other side to have an unlimited access to all these tasty frozen treats; he just needed to reach up and turn that globby metal doorknob and -- "Logan, that's for employees only."

I guess I didn't realize he didn't know what an employee was, so I explained that only the workers could go in there. So we went back to our seats and he kept looking at the service counter, watching some pimply-faced kid flip the burgers. I could tell the wheels in his head were turning; he was thinking that if he could just work here, then he could go through the Ice Cream Heaven Door and live there forever, laying in clouds made of ice cream where it rains chocolate and candy all day long.

"When I grow up, I want to be a policeman, a lifeguard, AND a cookerman at Dairy Queen!"