She wants to walk the earth

On our way around the park a couple of weeks ago, Fiona stopped pedaling to inform me that she wanted to travel around the world. Surprised, I asked her what she wanted to see.

"Oh, where people live, and what they do, what work and school is like, and what people do for fun." She spoke casually with a wrinkle in her nose and a carefree toss of her hand.

Then I asked her who she expected would go with her on her travels. "Nora would come, and you, and Dad... Everybody. We'd just go around the world and see how things work."

She has brought it up every couple of days ever since then. She wants to go places! She doesn't mind the car terribly, but has also asked recently about a hot air balloon, and once she heard about the concept of a glass bottomed boat a year ago she hasn't been able to shake the deliciousness of the concept.

Throughout my childhood, for the most part my family's idea of a blissful family vacation was to do one big project; say, paint the garage, and then pepper the week with other affordable excitement like driving a stretch to put each foot in a separate state simultaneously, or playing a round of Putt Putt after dinner, or having a scoop of ice cream at Friendly's in the afternoon. We might've played Boggle till we couldn't hear anymore from all the jiggling dice inside that amber plastic dome. It was work with a purpose pleasantly mingled with family fun.

Therefore little hints of a possible Anthropologist Fiona of the Future who wants to vacation by globetrotting are quite foreign, yet fascinating and exotically scintillating. My life is my own, and now Fiona and Nora have the chance to use the springboard of a solid family foundation to do whatever they choose for theirs. Wow! I wonder what will pique Fiona's interest next?