Some day, when I get bigger

I will talk about things I know and ask questions about things I don’t know. I will learn and research and read and have conversations. I will write and spell and use grammar.

Some day, when I get bigger, no one will say, “You don’t know things, you cannot have a turn to talk,” or, “You are not smart, you cannot learn.”

Some day, when I get bigger, I will have interesting hobbies. No one will say, “You have too many things, they are terrible and boring because they are not interesting to me and they are in my way,”

Some day, when I get bigger, my best friend will be a cat. He will give me long, slow blinks before he naps on my lap. No one will say, “You cannot have a cat because you are nobody,”

Some day, when I get bigger, I will be somebody, even if I am only somebody to my cat.

Some day, when I get bigger, I will have a blog and I will do writing exercises like, “Practice writing in a childish voice,” and no one will say, “What the fuck is she writing about now?”